


Proposal

by Medusa (MyOhMandy), MyOhMandy



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOhMandy/pseuds/Medusa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOhMandy/pseuds/MyOhMandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki sees potential in Tony Stark--or at least, he says he does. But what does Loki really want from Tony?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're Not a Pawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mikuridaigo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikuridaigo/gifts).



> Questions? Corrections? Advice? Ideas? Message/comment. :)  
> To see how much progress I'm making, always check my tumblr (finishedlines.tumblr.com) where i'll update you on when I've started writing a chapter, when I'm working on it, and when I'm closed to posting.  
> I'm trying to make these chapters consecutively longer, while also getting them published for you guys as fast as I can, so the first two/three days after a chapter is published, you might notice mistakes I didn't edit out in the quick scan through I did to get the chapter posted quickly. However, I do my best to go back and find them. :)  
> Please, always read the notes! Important information on updates, changes, and other things could appear here.

There aren't a lot of things with the potential to make a man like Tony second-guess his moral stance on things. Being a person of science, Tony constantly alters his view on things to solve problems; looking at things from this or that angle to smooth kinks in an equation, or sometimes scrapping an entire idea to build a new foundation-because being stubborn isn't compatible with being a scientist.

It's fair to say, then, that while Tony wasn't immobile when it came to inventions, the situation was different when concerning decisions of morality. When Tony Stark took a stance on things, he wasn't one to dance about it. And even then, there were certain things Tony simply never cared to change his mind about.; when it came to these things, even discussing it only got a laugh.

So, while Tony's moral compass pointed a little south of north, Tony had certain ideals he didn't intend to go against. Unfortunately, Tony circumstance didn't always allow him to abide by them. It hadn't started off as a problem Tony ever considered. It had started in that room, in Stark towers, before the end of the war Loki was waging—before the real start of it, even. It had started with that slight feeling of surprise and dread in Tony's heart when it occurred to him what he had been missing the entire time; what Loki had made no attempt to hide. It had started with the words "Son of a bitch." On the flight mechanism that had been serving as SHEILD's headquarters. But, more than anything, it had started with what the moment had meant, what all of those things had meant and what he had realized. He and Loki were the same. The only difference was that when Loki, having fucked up beyond belief, hadn't had the resources—the money, the love, the friends—to fix things the way Tony could. Loki was what Tony might have been, and Tony was what Loki never could be.  
Though, honestly, this realization didn't stir much in his mind. His viewpoint changed; shifted a click or two to the left, and he had realized how to try and appeal to the God of Mischief, because suddenly he just got it. So he'd gathered everyone up and headed to Stark Tower, where he would face off, armor-less, against Loki.  
"Do you want a drink?" He'd offered. Loki declined, and Tony shrugged to himself before beginning his little speech. He looked Loki in the eyes as he said the words he had planned out, had recited in his head, the words he knew would make it hardest for a man like Loki—a man like either of them—to continue with his plan. "You're missing the point! There's no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us but it's all on you." He'd said, and Loki had taken pause. The two were standing close now, though still about three feet apart. Loki looked at Tony with a sort of appraising expression in his eyes. Tony didn't know what it meant, and there was no hiding the fear in his own eyes.

"…You have doubts about my claims, of course. But I can assure you, I do have an army, and they are coming," Loki said, refusing to seem the slightest bit affected. "and while you may have reason to question my honesty, it doesn't matter. In a matter of hours you and the rest of your—your team—" he spat the word. "will be dead. And forgive me if I'm wrong, but I don't quite see you roaming the halls of Valhalla. So, Anthony Stark, if anyone were missing the point here, I'd say it was you. You have a chance, right now, to join me, and to choose to be on the winning side of this, to watch me create a world without war; simultaneously realizing the two things humans crave most." The two were, suddenly, standing closer, staring heatedly into each other's eyes.

"And what is it that humans crave the most?" Tony decided to humor him, although he wasn't entirely sure he cared to know the answer.  
Loki smiled, "Surely a man as smart as yourself would know. What humans want—what they really need," Loki was dragging the tip of the spear along Tony's chest, and Tony's heart was pounding like a jackhammer against it. "is peace…" he slid the sharp point of the spear very slowly across Tony's throat, his words making slow, careful movements as they traveled between his lips. "…And subjugation." His spear tapped over Tony's arc reactor. "…They were made to be ruled, Stark; all of them…but you." He tapped again at the metal.  
Tony was taken aback, to say the least; he met the eyes of the villain very steadily, trying to figure out how much of what Loki was saying was genuine. He was uncomfortable, standing this close to the god, but he didn't say it, didn't step back and let his body betray him. He just stood there, staring into unwavering pools of green, knowing that if his only chance was guessing Loki's tell—the tell of the God of Lies—that he honestly didn't stand a chance. "You want me to join your army?"  
Loki rolled his eyes. "Not join my army, Stark. I wouldn't have you fighting like a common soldier." He dismissed the idea completely, both with his words and with a sweeping gesture of his staff, made to the right of them, as there was no longer enough room to gesture freely between the two.  
"Oh really?" Tony said incredulously, both his right eyebrow and his mouth raised upwards in disbelieving approval.  
"Really, Stark, why would I convince you to join me…only to waste your life like a pawn's, when I could so easily end you now?"  
"This isn't a game of chess, Loki."

"Regardless. On my side, you would be more than the knight they seem to have elected you should play, and more than the pawn your government—and even you friend, at one point—tried to reduce you to." Loki's eyes glinted dangerously as he reference Obidiah. "On my side, your life might mean something."

"Oh yeah? Then what am I? What does the God of Mischief think I'm worth?"

"You're a rook, Stark." Loki's voice was serious. "You could do much for my side. you could have all you desire, Stark."

"A rook? Not a King? Not a queen?" He asked. "Besides, I don't know if you realize this, but I'm kind of a billionaire. Not really lacking in the want department."

Loki raised his eyebrow. "There are many things I could give you, Stark...things you would never think to ask for..." he paused, a glint in his eye. "Besides...you'd have me call you a queen?" Tony's lip twitched upwards. "No, Stark. You're neither a King nor a Queen in chess. The king is powerful only in name, while the queen—"

"What makes you think you have anything I'd want, Loki? Just because you see yourself as the Queen in this game-"

"You're too presumptuous. Perhaps I am the king, Stark. The most necessary pawn in the game." Loki took a step closer to Tony, leaving the shorter man feeling painstakingly vulnerable. "And there are many, many things I could give you, Stark," Loki leaned to whisper into his ear, not brushing Tony in the slightest. There was a dark, hungry look in Loki's eyes. "if only you could open your mind..."

"…is that what this is about, Loki?" Tony was panicking; he could think of nothing to do by crack a joke. "Board games? Are you here to offer me the latest bullshit form of Monopoly? Because if you're bored, I have Scrabble in the close—"  
Loki snarled, grabbing Tony by the throat. "You insolent—"

Tony was caught completely by surprise. "—well if you're still offering I'd like you to give me my life—" he choked, and Loki paused, loosening his grip on Tony's throat before dropping him back onto his feet.

"Never-mind, Stark. I was wrong about you," his eyes narrowed, and deep in them there was a trace of hurt, masked by a thick layer of disapproval.

"I'm sure you'll understand my not wanting to broadcast this to the rest of your...team." Loki said, stepping away, suddenly casual again. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to do some significant damage in order to cover up this...offer...which still stands." As he said the words, his eyes flitted to the window.

"You're serious?" Tony asked.  
"What, is the infamous Tony Stark scared of a window?"  
Tony scoffed. "Try me."  
And that's how Tony Stark found himself flying through the glass of his own tower.


	2. Morality vs Practicality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in handcuffs, Loki's a dangerous guy.

The next time that Loki and Tony had a "heart to heart" it was under extremely different circumstances. The battle had ended, and Loki had been caught with a beaten face and an awkward smile. Having handcuffed him without a hitch, the group paused.

"I almost don't know what to do now." Natasha frowned, her left eye brow raised in her signature frown. "Aside from the army, Clint being brainwashed, Bruce Hulking out, and Tony nearly dying...this was a lot easier than I thought it'd be."

"My brother is a formidable force," Thor warned. "we should take measures to see that he does not escape from us." His tone was grave and serious, his eyebrows scrunched together and his fingers curled, one around the hammer and the other grasping at air. Tony wasn't surprised. It would have been one thing to have had Loki give up-even after all the trouble he'd caused on Asgard, even after attacking Earth and joining the Chituari against humans-it would have been one thing for Loki to have made mistake after mistake-if only he had repented. Had Loki given up, at anytime during the scrabble, Thor could be at peace again, at least to a strong extent. Had Loki proved he regretted what he'd done by calling off the army, had he let himself be taken back to Asgard after being captured in Russia (instead of escaping before they'd found the Tesseract), had he simply given up during the war against Earth, Thor could have pleaded a case for him. The journey home, to SHIELD, and just in general his explanation to the rest of the team would have been strained, or awkward, but Thor would have the reassurance in his heart that Loki was still Loki. That, in spite of his actions, Loki was sick. He was sick, and he could get better, and things could be okay because Loki was still his brother, and that Loki still loved him, and that no matter how fucked up things were, they were going to stand by each other.

"He was overcome by madness, a temporary state he eventually outgrew," he might have said to Fury, or to his home people. "He made many mistakes, ones he must bear the guilt for. But he has also repented them. He has also stopped further conflict from occurring, and now we have not only the sure allies of Earth, but we also have our beloved Loki, and the tesseract, to solidify these happenings as meaningful." but he couldn't say any of that now. Sure, he could go home and point out that he'd caught his brother, that he'd taken the tesseract, and yes, he had further allied himself with the Earth. But he had also put fear into their hearts, and he knew it. People were starting to realize that just because Thor was friendly, and just because he claimed that Asgard didn't want a war with Earth, there were clearly other people from Asgard who didn't agree.

And Thor had gotten what he wanted with methods that he'd never wanted to use. His brother had been captured, but the problems weren't solved. The fight wasn't over, and Tony could tell that Thor knew it. Thor was going to have to fight SHIELD. He was going to to have to face the problems he had with Loki, and then, one way or another, he was going to have to bring Loki home. And Loki was going to have to face his father, face his mother, face Asgard, and he was going to do it unwillingly, angrily, and without remorse. He was going to have to do it He was probably going to laugh in their faces while he was at it. And Tony could tell that Thor was torn. He was angry with his brother for his choices, for loosing his mind and attacking the Earth, angry for whatever circumstances had surrounded Loki's disappearance from Asgard, angry for Loki's madness. Loki had made a mess of things, had spat all over the things Thor loved, and while Tony was an only child, he didn't underestimate the damage it was all going to do to the two brothers. Loki was-no, Tony, Stop.

But none of them could careless. They were all both overly exhausted and overwhelmingly relieved to be alive. That the rest of the team was alive-especially Black Widow. There was no hiding it. Natasha Romanoff had been sitting with a deep feeling of worry since the start of this mission, and Tony wasn't fool enough to think it was purely because of the Tesseract. Even in the midst of all the turmoil, Tony had noticed Natasha relax after the Hawk had joined them. He decided that they had some kind of weird I-Love-But-You'll-Never-Hear-Me-Say-It kind of relationship, and made a mental note to figure out more about it later while simultaneously deciding that the Hawk was the only reason that he hadn't tapped that yet. Hawkeye, who Tony decided he liked when he wasn't trying to blow up SHIELD headquarters, or helping Loki steal people's eyes. Meanwhile, Loki-goddamn-it.

Not to mention Pepper. Pepper, who, he had to admit, he was a bit miffed at for not answering his phone while he was on the brink of death-but he would have time to think about that later. Tony Stark was still floating on the waves of relief as the shock began to subside, his mind stabilizing from the violent jarring of his almost-death. Not to mention he was still reeling, thinking back to Loki's offer. How ironic it seemed now, having him carted along next to them, arms handcuffed like a common criminal. No. Don't think about Loki.

The Hulk was silent except for his opened-mouth breathing as they walked through the destroyed streets, over and through the rubble of Manhattan. Tony looked at the Hulk, and thought about how he'd saved his life. He put a smirk and the words "I told you so" in his back pocket for later. For Bruce.

Loki. Loki was walking next to him through the mess as they made there way to a place where a SHIELD helicopter could reach them. Loki-fuck not thinking about the son of a-had stared right into their eyes as Thor clocked the special restraints on his wrist, had looked into Tony's as they argued over the steel muzzle Thor insisted they use. Tony stepped in, and Thor lost. He sulked in silence, constantly glancing at his brother, who's right arm he was clutching tightly.

"So, Loki," Tony said quietly, "What do you have to say about your army now?" tilting his head to the side slightly, still looking forward. Steve, who was walking in front of him to his left, glanced back at him with a questioningly raised eyebrow; Tony flashed a smirk and a wink. Steve hadn't heard what he said. Loki meanwhile, was pretending he hadn't, trudging silently next to him. "Oh, come on, did your silver tongue get too heavy to lift? Then again, seeing as though you can somehow shoulder your ego-"

Loki's head turned a fraction of a degree to the side, his eyes boring threateningly into Tony's, warning him. "Do not underestimate me, Stark. Appearances can be deceiving." and it was so quietly spoken, it was almost as though he'd whispered it in Tony's ear. Tony only scoffed.

They opted out of going straight to meet the helicopter. Well, Tony opted out, and after everything that had happened, the team felt obligated to follow his lead. Tony wanted food, and the rest of the team was in no place to opt out. The problem arose in the middle of the meal when Loki-who wasn't eating anything-suggested that someone take him to the bathroom. Tony, being the one person Loki had tried and failed to control, was elected to be his watchdog.

"Come on-are we really doing this?" Tony asked in disbelief. "Genius, worth billions, loved by thousands-did I mention that I have a girl friend? I am the only one at this table with a girlfriend-of the same race," he added, looking at Thor. "and we're sending me in?"

"Stark, take him to the bathroom before I drag you to the door. and lock the two of you inside myself." Natasha said, her voice flat and serious as she glared at him; Clint was the only one to laugh, although the lot of them looked mildly amused.

"Don't worry, Stark," Bruce said, having once again reverted to his normal form. "anything happens to you, I'll take care of the suit for you." he laughed, smiling at him teasingly.

"Fine, fine. I take a bomb for Manhattan, and you guys send me into the bathroom with a psychotic. I hope you all know that in the will you rotten kids get nothing." Tony stands up, taking hold of Loki's elbow and leading him to the bathroom. "Absolutely nothing!"

"Tony-" Steve says, rolling his eyes, not bothering to hide the sparkling amusement in his eyes.

"I want my shield back! My shield, Capsicle, I want to be buried with it!" the door smacked closed behind them. He turned to Loki. "Make it quick, Rock of Ages. I don't have time for a guitar solo. Although, with all those layers of diva, good luck pissing before Christmas." Tony nodded at Loki's clothes.

Loki rolled his eyes, but didn't say a word. He walked over to the urinal and proceeded to (in a several motions that weren't visible from Tony's angle) pee. Tony whistled impatiently, leaning back against the tiles. I wonder how big a god's-damn-it stop. he caught himself. That's weird. Beyond weird. But he was leaning forward a bit, in spite of himself. Loki looked over his shoulder.

"Need something, Stark?" He asked sardonically, turning and walking to the sink. "I was aware of your rather...infamously concupiscent nature...but this suggests a severe lack of self control." he turned the sink off and turned to approach Tony.

"He speaks," Tony replied. "Maybe we should have put the muzzle on you after all."

Loki scowled angrily at him. "I am not an animal, Stark, in spite of what my...brother might have told you." He stopped right in front of Tony.

"That's nice. Let's go-" he turned to the door, just to have Loki's hand-his free right hand-shoot out and hold it closed. "What the-"

"You should have joined my army, Stark," He said, looming over Tony. "You should have joined me. You could be so much more." He leaned down, stared deeply into his eyes.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, Loki, but last I checked we won." His eyes moved to the cuts and bruises decorating Loki's face.

"And you've lost something more," Loki whispered in his hear. "Something you can still have." Loki pulled his head back enough to stare at him. He rubbed his fingers gently across a large bruise on Tony's eyebrow. The hairs on Tony's neck were standing up, but he wasn't jerking away; he was staring at Loki, eyes wide, uncharacteristic signs of vulnerability showing through his expression. But he wasn't jerking away.

"And what did I loose...?" he dared. His stubbornness was not going to fail him. Tony Stark was not going to buckle to this. His heart was pounding, and there were a million thoughts flying through his head,

What am I doing? His handcuffs are gone. His Asgardian handcuffs are gone. Damnit, Tony, why didn't you make him keep the muzzle?

The clock was ticking, he reminded himself. Bruce, Natasha, Cap, Thor, and the Hawk weren't going to sit around and wait forever. Especially Natasha, as paranoid as she was. But he was here right now, standing in a public bathroom, with Loki free and breathing in his face. Tony was bracing himself, waiting for Loki to do something. To stab him, or laugh at him, or punch him in the face. Loki's hand swept over the light-switch, and shadows poured out of the corners to swallow them. Tony waited for his heart to burst through his ribcage, waited to defend himself, or run, or fight and yell and do anything. He ground his teeth like stone against each other.

It was a soft, light brush at first, and it wasn't until the air spread over and in between his lips that he realized-that it even occurred to him-and then he felt the soft, gentle presence of Loki's lips against his, pressing more with confidence, his hand moving from Tony's face to wrap around his waist, and without thinking, Tony wrapped his arms around Loki, and the two were suddenly holding onto each other, kissing in a sold, unmoving kiss that wasn't a kiss.

And Tony didn't move back. Tony didn't pull away.


	3. Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He woke up without realizing he’d gone to sleep. His eyes felt sore, and his heart beat thudded none-too-gently in his skull. He tried to sit up, or to open his eyes--and then immediately decided not to. His ribs ached when he tried to move, and he found--to his absolute horror--that even though he thought his eyes were open, it was still pitch black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're going to notice that my rating went up--don't get excited. No sex scenes or anything of the like here. Just me exploring some characters a bit.  
> It took a bit longer than I hoped it would to get this out. But I wrote it just in the past two nights, so that's progress. To see how much I've been working inbetween chapters, you can always check my tumblr (finishedlines.tumblr.com) where i'll update you on when I've started writing a chapter, when I'm working on it, and when I'm closed to posting.  
> Well! I said these chapters would get longer...and while they're still, well, short...they are definitely getting longer. I was a bit hesitant about posting this one. It feels a bit soon. But then again, when am I ever sure I should post anything?  
> Anyways, enjoy!

He woke up without realizing he’d gone to sleep. His eyes felt sore, and his heart beat thudded none-too-gently in his skull. He tried to sit up, or to open his eyes--and then immediately decided not to. His ribs ached when he tried to move, and he found--to his absolute horror--that even though he thought his eyes were open, it was still pitch black. There was something on his face--wrapped around his eyes, he quickly realized, relaxing a bit, and the throbbing, he slowly comprehended, came from the back of his skull.

“...Jarvis...” he tried to say. His words came out a crumpled mess, and they fell into an incoherent heap in the air. There was no answer.

So he wasn’t home. He felt around him--the sheets were unfamiliar; starchy, thin and cheap. He reached back carefully over his head, worried he’d discover a pain in his shoulder, and felt the pillow. It was definitely his. The fabric was soft, smooth, and inviting, the stuffing plush and comforting. He could reach either side of the bed--it had round bars on either side. He sniffed at the air.

Oh, he realized, I’m in a hospital. He listened carefully and heard someones quiet breathing from a few feet away. I’m in a hospital, and whoever is in my room with me fell asleep.

He focused all his attention to his mouth, moving it carefully to see if he’d be able to speak properly before he said anything else.

“BARTON!” He yelled loudly. To his pleasure, he heard a surprised cry followed by the sound of a chair falling over--punctuated by creative curses. “What the hell happened?”

“Jesus, Tony. Was that really necessary?” He heard Clint stand up, fixing his chair, but not sitting in it.

“What the hell happened?” He ignored Clint’s question. “Why am I in the hospital?” He reached back carefully, his fingers gingerly patting the bandage on the back of his skull.

“Dude, you tell me. One second we’re all chillin’ out, celebrating that we’ve won--next thing we know, you’re screaming bloody murder in the bathroom. We come in; Loki’s gone, you’re down and out, bleeding everywhere, and hands cuffed.” He could hear that was now Clint standing to the left. “By the looks of it, Loki grabbed you, slammed your head against the wall, and then used your chest as a dance floor. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you, the sick bastard.”

“But then what the hell is this?” He gestured to the bandage across his eyes.

“He cast some funky spell on your eyes, man. Thor says you’ll be fine in a day and a half, tops. But he said it’d be better if we covered them--the spell will make you see weird stuff. Not to mention your eyes look crazy as hell.”

“And where exactly is everyone? I nearly die twice, and the team ditches me? Where’s Rhodey and Pepper?”

“Pepper’s handling press. She was here this morning, but you’ve been out for a about a week, thanks to Asgardian voodoo magic. They public’s all convinced that you’ve gonna comatose for good or something. Throwing around a bunch of different ideas. Rhodey had to go for military work yesterday. Haven’t been able to get in touch with him since. The team’s out and about. Can’t doesn’t stop for one man, does it?”

Tony laughed--painfully. “And how’d you get stuck on baby-sitting duty?” He laughed.

“Like I said, it’s been a week. We take turns based on who’s needed the most. Bruce was here most of the time, but he went in to talk about the tesseract with Fury today. Thor’s got the green light to take it back to Asgard, but it looks like he’s staying behind until we catch Loki. Pepper will probably be here soon to take over. I texted her that you’re awake, and the press conference should be about done. I’ve got a mission in Mexico, so I’ve gotta head out to catch a plane soon.”

About fifteen minutes later, Pepper and Hawkeye switched out, as promised, and no sooner had he left was Pepper all over him, freaking out.

“Tony Stark you idiot!” She exclaimed. “I thought you were dead! Twice! First I see you flying into oblivion on the news--next thing I know you’re in the hospital, passed out for a week!”

“Yeah, babe, missed you too,” He replied.

Pepper. Pepper who hadn’t answered his phone call. He’d been about to die--ready to die, in the way that Steve was so sure he didn’t have the guts to do. About to die alone, an inconceivably large distance away from anyone he knew or loved, with the Chitauri, when Loki himself was going to keep his life. About to die and leave Pepper and Rhodey, who’d seen him graze death too many times already, because the council wanted to blow up Manhattan. Without even leaving them a body to bury.

“The press thinks you’ve been kidnapped by Loki--or that you-re dead or brain dead or scarred--everyone’s panicking! And here you are, lying in bed, saying ‘oh, missed you too babe,’ like the sky didn’t fall on your face!” She lightly hit his chest with a book.

“Ow, ow, ow! Pepper, I think you might’ve missed a thing or two along the way--but I did help save Manhattan. And that was my rib. Broken ribs, Pepper! Means do not touch.” He said back, without any fierceness in his voice. They were bickering in their typical old-married-couple kind of way, and none of their harshness meant anything other than, “I was worried,” and “I’m sorry,”.

“If you could see the look I’m giving you right now, Tony...”

“I’d burst into flames, I’m sure,”

\-------------

Tony was getting fed up of being treated like--someone other than himself. Questions, questions, questions. But he didn’t have any answers. He didn’t know how Loki had overcome him in the bathroom. He didn’t remember if Loki had attacked him the second the door had opened, or if he’d boded his time and caught Tony with his guard down. Tony honestly didn’t remember shit about the bathroom, and it was starting to piss him off that people were acting like they didn’t believe him.

“It’s not that, Tony. We’re not stupid; we know you wouldn’t willingly cover for this guy, “Natasha had said, upon sitting with Fury in his hospital room that night. “But Thor said that Loki used magic on you, and he can’t tell if it’s affected you memory or not. If there’s a chance Loki had a reason to make you forget what happened in that bathroom, we need to know why. For all we know, he planned to get caught the whole time. He could’ve blurted out his whole plan to you and then blocked it off. If that’s true, and there’s a chance you’ve got important information locked up in your head, you’re going to have to try and break down a door or two.” She sounded perfectly reasonable, and he knew that they were right--Loki could have said anything to him, anything at all, and then just wiped it clean from his conscious mind. But that didn’t stop him from being pissed off.

“And who’s to say the information wouldn’t be gone even if he had laid down the schematics for a master plan? He’s no short stick, Natasha. Chances are, if he ever did tell me anything, it’s wiped clean from my memory anyways. I don’t see Loki leaving a back door open to a shed he doesn’t need. If it was ever there, I’m willing to bet it’s gone now.” He was tired of this. Being asked the same questions over and over again. He didn’t have anything to give them, and he felt crappy enough already without being constantly reminded that he’d been bested by Loki.

He heard Fury sigh. “Look, Stark; I know this is frustrating for you. But you’re going to have to keep thinking. This information could save people’s lives’, Stark. And it could make things a hell of a lot easier for SHIELD and the Avengers. At the very least, it could sure do a lot to help everyone sleep at night.”

Even with his eyes bandaged, he could picture their faces. Identical expression; serious, worried, with a small hint of compassion in their pupils. Any concern or relief they’d had when Tony had woken up was pushed to the back of their skulls, leaving room for all of the logic and reason they needed to deliver their point.

He heard his door open. “Hey, guys,” It was Steve, and he didn’t need to hear his voice to guess it. Something in the way his footsteps sounded gave it away. Or maybe he’d heard Steve was going to see him that night and he’s only remembered subconsciously. “I’ll take over.”

“Think about it, Stark,” Fury said, and Tony could hear the two of them standing up to leave. Their footsteps stopped at the door. “It’s good to have you back.”

Steve let the door swing closed behind them as he took Natasha’s place in the chair closer to Tony’s right shoulder.

“Well, we won.” Steve smiled a bit awkwardly, even though Tony still had the bandage wrapper around his eyes.

He had a lot of things he wanted to say to Tony Stark. Tony had immediately rubbed him the wrong way, just as Howard had, and it was a bit off-putting, seeing someone who looked like an old friend of his, who acted like an old friend of his, walking around in a world completely different than the one his father had belonged to, that Steve used to be a part of. Tony had unnerved him in more ways than one. And, in the middle of all his attempts to fit in with this modern group of people who already had expectations and ideals about him, having Tony walking around cracking jokes about him didn’t help. But he’d been wrong about Tony, the same way he’d been wrong about Howard. Tony wasn’t a bad guy--and when it had come down to it, Tony was just as capable of working with a team, and sacrificing for the greater good as any soldier was. Steve couldn’t help but admit that it was also pretty nice to have someone who was always straight with him around. Tony never beat around the bush, and while he’s initially been put off with Tony’s undeserved familiarity around him, he’d begun to realize that with Tony, that was just friendship. And he was starting to like it. His humor reminded him a bit of--dare he say it--Bucky, too. And Steve couldn’t bring himself to hate someone that reminded him--even in a small way--of Bucky. Steve had to admit, watching Tony fly after the missile had completely changed his reluctantly impressed opinion of Tony, and it was safe to say that Steve had been more than a little relieved when Tony had turned out to be okay when the Hulk had brought him back.

He was getting used to the idea of a team; becoming acclimated with the reality that he wasn’t going to be able to dwell on the past, and realizing that this team was his way to move on, He had a chance to form some real bonds here, with people who understood him better than a lot of the people he’d known in his own time, and who were a lot less fragile than they were. So when Tony had his second scare in the bathroom, Steve was a little more than freaked out.

But here he was now, sitting by Tony’s bedside, smiling a smile that Tony couldn’t see, and only thinking that he was glad to have his friend alive, awake, and in one piece.

“Yeah, I feel like I just got a gold metal in the Olympics,” Tony responded.

They were both quiet for a second, and then, suddenly, they were laughing like they were never going to laugh again, smiles huge and bright like the sun, Tony’s ribs protesting violently, and Steve felt okay.

\-----------------------------------

Loki couldn’t stop pacing. He was angry with himself, cursing under his breath, feeling like a fool. He’d undone it, undone everything, like an indecisive child, finally taking action, only to try and cover it up again two seconds later.

A fool; I am such a fool.

He sat down, and then stood up again, continued walking back and forth through the room, completely and totally lost at what actions he should take. He was panicking, and his vulnerable side was taking over. I am such a fool! A lame jester for fate to scoff at, slipping over my own decisions.

He’d stood their, in the bathroom, and he’d said it again.

“Join me, Stark,” and his breath had been heavy, his voice was a thick, enticing whisper, his mouth fighting the mischievous smile attempting to take reign over his face. “you could have all you ever wanted,”

He hadn’t expected Tony to go with him, truth be told. He wasn’t upset that Tony hadn’t jumped into his arms--he was simply afraid.

“Who says...” Tony had looked him in the eyes. “that you know what I want?”

And Loki had only laughed, unsurprised by the response. He stepped back, giving Stark some room. “I’m afraid this is the part where I get away,” he’d said, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

He reached for Tony’s face, wrapped his hand around it, casting a short spell that left Tony painless before slamming the back of his head against the wall, over thinking his strength and hitting it too hard. He threw Tony to the ground. Tony’s eyes were wide, confused, and a bit taken aback. Loki couldn’t stand them. They were looking at him, trying to figure him out, to tell if this was a real attempt at murder or if Loki was really only trying to cover their asses before he escaped. The answer was obvious--but having just had his skull smacked back against hard tile, he wasn’t really thinking clearly. There was a pounding at the door; the team had heard the slam of bone to tile. He’d already locked the door. He gave himself five seconds without magic. He’d take a minute with.

Tony’s eyes could have fooled anyone. They were shining with a pain he didn’t feel, asking him questions and being defiant at the same time, as though he were completely lucid. They had a hate in them, and a disapproval. He couldn’t look at them anymore. He cast another spell; Tony’s eyes changed, becoming dark, lifeless, and unjudgemental--like the eyes of a corpse. Colors started blooming in his pupils, a deep, threatening red spreading to cover his entire eye. Loki--for final effect, made a bit of a show of bruising Tony’s chest and abdomen--breaking a rib or two in the process.

But when he stood back, he didn’t feel proud. He wasn’t happy with the mischief he’d made, wasn’t excited to have conquered his enemy--looking at Tony, Loki felt ashamed.

He put a mental block on Tony’s brain before he left. He was too ashamed--of all the things he’d done--to let anyone but himself remember what had happened. He didn’t want to think about the kiss--and how good and fulfilling it had been, knowing the mess he was making, the unnecessary mind games he was playing, and he wanted to forget how great of a kisser Tony had been, and how sure he was that Tony would’ve joined him when it ended, only to feel the bitter knife of rejection. He didn’t want to think about how much he’d overdone the beating, using too many spells, too much force, and taking too much time. He didn’t want to think of Tony’s eyes.

He couldn’t think about Tony’s eyes.

 


	4. Who You Think You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is being stalked, and Tony is being paranoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***I need to warn you now...there's a a few violent scenes here that may be either triggering or simply unpleasant to read. My recommendation in those scenes, if you're faint of heart, is to read pretty much just the dialogue.  
> Also, I've decided to issue a bit of a challenge. There are at least nineteen of you guys so far, and so I know if you try, you can accomplish this for me, and for yourselves. Feedback helps me immensely in not only reassuring me that I'm not wasting internet...but that I'm giving you something to really enjoy, and, of course, I'd reward you all.  
> I'm not asking for ego boosters. I want real feedback, if you don't mind giving it. What your favorite parts are, what your least favorite parts were, what character you think is spot on, and if you think anyone is OOC. I'd like to hear you general thoughts on a chapter, and how you feel about where I'm taking this, I'd like to see where you think it's going to go. What do you want to see? What do you think I haven't done enough of?  
> In return, If you guys leave me six comments on this or any of these chapters, I will update again before monday. Eight, and I'll update Egocentric (the SteveTony). Ten, hell, I'll start posting whole paragraphs from the upcoming chapter previews on my blog.  
> Go fourth and enjoy!

“You have to stop,” he pleaded; it was hard to breathe, hard to move, hard to stay alive. He was in agonizing pain, and every movement took more strength out of him.

He could no longer stand, his legs black with bruises, a large knot swelling in the center of his left tibia where the bone had broken, a cut deep on his right thigh where blood seemed to flow out endlessly, sliding through the laceration, running down his leg, and splattering on the floor. His right arm hung limply at his side, the shoulder out of socket and it’s length covered in deep cuts, his ulna was protruding from his forearm. His left, hand held it to his side desperately, the blood mixing from it’s own cuts into the others. His abdomen was on fire from the places he’d been stabbed, shallowly, and his ribs were broken and cracked. His face was bloody, but undamaged, the liquid running down from behind his hairline.

“Why should I?” the Other man responded. He paced around in front of him, his eyes unfeeling in a way that was hard to process. “What, do I owe you some sort of mercy?” He laughed curtly. “Give me one reason to stop--just one simple reason, and maybe I’ll consider it before I crack your ribs open.”

“What reason would you use to kill me?” the first man asked, his voice struggling against the pain, eyes over flooded with tears that swam down his face. “I have done many things I am not proud of, none of them to you.”

“Oh really?” He laughed. “You think you haven’t done anything to me?” he was approaching the first man again, long scepter held firmly in his hands. He looked at the sharp edge of it’s blade-like end. It was dripping with blood. There was a fear like none he’d ever seen in the other man’s eyes; a desperate, hopeless fear, not of death, but of pain. Of a worsening, or continuation, of pain. The Other man was remorseless, though, and simply smiled a bit, raising the tip of the scepter to press against his cheek, leaving a messy trail of blood along the apple of his zygomatic bone as he traced it before resting it where he imagined the first man’s teeth met under his left cheek.

“Please,” He begged against it, voice anguished and desperate.

“No,” was all the other man said. He pushed the blade in through the skin and muscle, pulling the scepter towards him, cutting a joker-like scar into the side of his face before raising the scepter and violently slamming it against the first man’s head, knocking him onto his left side with a howl that sounded inhuman. The Other man raised the scepter and placed it over the first man’s sternum.

“Tony, please...” the man said, almost unintelligibly, clutching his face and crying.

“No, Loki. You don’t get to beg anymore. You get to die.” He put all of his force into the scepter and jabbed it into Loki’s chest.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tony woke up heaving breaths and covered in sweat; a strange, uncomfortable feeling in his chest, with an uneasy stomach. He rolled over, catapulting himself out of bed, only to discover a strong sense of vertigo that nearly had him face planting on the floor as he ran to the bathroom in time to reach the toilet before he threw up, multiple times. He felt worse than he had in years, his mind replaying the horrible images from his dream; the blood, the wounds, the tears streaming down Loki’s face.

What the fuck is wrong with me? he thought. Jesus fucking christ.

He laid back on the tile floor when his stomach had emptied itself, his world still spinning, chest still off putting him, as a headache began to seep into his brain. If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought it was a hangover--but he did. He hadn’t gotten drunk the night before, and he had no reason to be feeling this shitty. He’d been let out of the hospital the day before, with no issues or warnings aside from “take it easy”.

He sat up, using the counter to stand and trying not to wince at the pain from his injuries. He looked at himself in the mirror; eyes bloodshot, skin pallid, unnoticed tears streaming down the sides of his face. He opened the medicine cabinet behind his mirror and took two pills for the pain.

He thought about going back to bed, but he knew it was useless. He laid his back against the cool tile again, his weary mind fearful of the demons hiding in the corner of his mind. He tried to sleep.

But he just stayed there until Steve came in to check on him.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

“You know, Tony, maybe you wouldn’t wake up feeling so bad if you didn’t drink so much,” Pepper said, leaning on the kitchen counter in front of where he was sitting at the adjoined bar. “I know you’re upset about what happened--”

“Listen, Pepper,” he interrupted, his voice low, and quiet, his eyes shut and hand holding his face. “This is not a fucking hangover. I’m fine now, Pepper. I had a bad night, and now I had a leftover headache. I’m not upset about what happened with Loki. I’m angry, yes, I’d like to blast him into the next universe or two, but I’m not upset about this. I don’t even remember it.” his words against Loki were without real malice, and saying them turned his stomach---but he’d chosen taking pain pills over nausea medication, so he was going to have to live with his stomach until he got over it. “I just feel off. My head hurts, my stomach is turning, and I’ve just overcome vertigo, so please, give a moment or two to feel sick--and please, stop talking about Loki.”

Pepper sighed, coming around the counter to put a hand on his back. “I’m just worried about you, Tony,” she said.

He looked at her and nodded. “I know.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tony was going out, and in Steve’s opinion, it was about time. It was more for press than anything else, and Tony had been heavily pressured into it by Pepper, but Steve had barely seen Tony leave his lab in the past few days, so he was comforted. He alone made plans to go with them, and Pepper was relieved she’d have someone to help with keeping him in check.

Tony smiled and waved, ever the people’s person, as he made his way into the building, through a crowd. It was black-tie-boring, and Tony spent the next hour and half playing nice with people he didn’t particularly care about. It was the first time Steve had seen him put on his game face so completely, and was pleasantly surprised by the well behaved manor he carried himself in. However, at eleven o’clock exactly, Tony reappeared to Pepper and promptly informed her that he’d stayed for the exact amount of time she’s asked of him, and that he was leaving. Steve, who was on the other side of the room and unaware of this agreement, approached her with a displeased face when he noticed Tony slipping out of the party.

“He’s going home?” he asked her. “It’s not over yet.”

“That’s Tony. Filled his quota, and off he goes.”

He wasn’t going home. He’d finally felt well enough to be dragged out of the house, and now that he was out in the world, he wasn’t ready to leave. He pulled off his jacket and tie after he climbed into the car, unbuttoning his top button and rolling back his sleeves as Happy pulled in front of the club.

He walked pointedly though the line, to multiple protests, all of which he ignored, until to his surprised, someone grabbed him.

“Hey man, you’ve gotta wait in the back of the line just like everyone else.”

“Uh, excuse me,” another voice interrupted, and someone slipped the man’s hand off of Tony and slid their own around him. “It’s Tony Stark, man. He’s not just another guy. Certainly not a man who waits in lines,” and without waiting for a response, the man began to walk away, towing Tony along with him as he briskly made his way past the bouncer and into the club, leading them straight to the bar.

“So, Mr. Stark, what brings you here? Isn’t there a benefit or something you’re supposed to be attending?” He asked, leaning against the counter. He was tall, with tan skin and brown eyes, dark hair cut short, stubble on his face; not remotely bad looking.

“Ditched it. Got boring; everyone there just likes to talk about money, and well, I already have enough of that. So here I am, being towed around by a stranger,”

“You’ve given the public quite a lot to think about recently, what with the attack, and almost dying--twice, from what I here. There were conspiracy theories flying around. ‘He’s dead, he’s dead and they’re postponing telling us’ and ‘He fought off an entire alien attack only to die in a restaurant. Figures.’” He was smiling too happily. “People were having candle-light vigils and praying for your soul.”

Loki was watching them from the other side of the bar, his hand clutched tightly around his drink. He didn’t know what they were saying, and he wasn’t sure if he should cast a spell and risk further antagonizing his jealousy, or if he should simply continue steaming from where he was.

He’d been laying low for the past couple of days. He didn’t feel quite right, like someone was following him. Someone with magic, someone from Asgard. Not to mention that the entire Earth was looking for him. He kept his head down and acted normal, and while people stopped every now and there, did double takes, and gave him confused looks, they mostly rationalized it away, too afraid they’d turn in an innocent stranger. No, they thought, I’ve just been watching so much news that every black-haired stranger reminds me of the blurred images of an alien mass murderer. And they would just keep walking.

“Oh? And what, pray-tell, were you doing?” Tony asked, smiling back at the guy after ordering himself a scotch. “Were you on your knees, begging for my soul?”

The other guy just laughed. “Not exactly.”

Loki’s hands were going to splinter the wood of the bar, or smash the glass of his drink--or they would have, if he was more like Thor; stupid, impulsive, and obnoxious. He was overcome with jealousy, and so he was overcome with hate. But he stayed, and stared, and watched without listening. Until they got up to leave. So easily? He thought in disbelief. So easily taking bedfellows?

He stood up, rushing out before they had even gotten near the door.

Tony and the man exited the club together, smiling and talking. The man, it had turned out, was someone he’d already met--an engineer, like himself, who was taking a slight hiatus--although, in Tony’s opinion, it couldn’t have been a very important one if he could be so easily spotted at a bar. In spite of this, the two were now having a hugely engaging conversation over a theory the engineer had about nuclear energy, quickly asking questions and listening carefully to Tony’s light-hearted opinions and remarks. They stopped at the side of the street, waiting for the pedestrian sign to give them their turn to cross, when, suddenly. a strange look washed over the engineer’s face.

“Uh--excuse me--” he said suddenly, briefly holding his hand over his head, as if he had a headache, “I--I need to go.”

“Wait, wha--” was all Tony managed to say before the man turned and attempted to dive into traffic, Tony immediately grabbing his arm and yanking him back, saving the man from being hit by a car. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He said, watching the car that should’ve killed his acquaintance drive away. He glanced across the street, and froze. “Oh, god-damnit, I get it.”

“What--what happened--?” The man was saying. Tony wasn’t listening.

So, maybe Loki wasn’t thick and brutish like Thor. But he definitely wasn’t above being impulsive, especially when it came to revenge. So, having made his way across the street, he’d turned and seen Tony with the man from the bar, and decided that they weren’t going to home together. Without any thought in the action, he whispered a short spell drawing the man forward, into oncoming traffic--only to have Tony grab him and pull him out of harm’s way before he was hit.

He felt it before he’d even finished the spell. The presence was back, and it was nearby. He felt threatened by it, but it’s advantage over him. He didn’t recognize the feel of their magic, but he could tell that it was strong, and not too far away.

Loki cursed under his breath, ready to abandon his attempts when he realized something--Tony was staring right at him. Loki cursed again before turning and hurrying a bit frantically in the other direction, having abandoned any thoughts of approaching Tony when the stranger had picked him up. But Tony had seen him, and the cat was out of the bag. He was rushing in the opposite direction, the advantage of being on the opposite end of the street working easily to his advantage against Tony, the silent stalker following the both of them as he made his getaway.

Tony was determined not to loose him. He’d hurried across the street, following Loki’s progress with his eyes while trying to maintain enough of a distance to fool Loki into thinking he’d gotten away. Loki moved in quick steps, like a snake’s jabs, and had he blinked a second later, he might’ve missed Loki duck into the alley. He rushed forward, running now to it, only find it empty when he reached it. He turned into it anyways.

“Loki...?” He called, stepping into it, glancing around. He turned down to the end of it, where it broke into two directions. He looked down the right hallway, “Lok--shit--!”

Loki grabbed him, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and pushed him threateningly against the wall.

“Why do you insist on following me?” He snarled, his face twisting angrily.

“C-calm down. I’m not here to--”

“To hurt me? Well, that’s perfectly clear. They say you’re one of the smartest men on earth, and yet you chase a god through the streets unarmed. Do you want to die, Stark?”

“Slow down, Kiss. I just wanna talk.”

“What does the likes of you have to discuss with me?” The joke went over Loki’s head; he was too preoccupied trying to figure out how close behind him the other sorcerer was.

“Well, for starters--”

“Do you actually wish to die, Stark?” Loki hissed. “I am going to leave you here, in this alley, and you are not going to follow me, understand? I do not have times to fulfill the wishes of every foolish human who wishes to die by a god’s hand. I cannot say the same for anyone else, however, so if you value your life, stop following me.” He let go of Tony and vanished around the corner.

Tony had tried to follow after him, despite his warning, but Loki had seemingly evaporated into thin air. So he’d called Happy and gone home, where he told Steve about what’d happened. He was less than pleased.

“Tony, if you’d just stayed at the damn party--”

“Hey, are we really blaming Loki showing up out of nowhere on me? I didn’t do anything that I wouldn’t normally do. He just showed up out of the cosmos and decided to drag a guy into traffic for seemingly no reason.”

“Tony, the guy’s a nut job. He doesn’t need a reason. This is serious. He could be following you around.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Look, Steve, if anything, he’s staking out all of us. He could’ve been doing things to fuck with us this whole time. My bet’s on Thor getting the brunt of it.”

“Tony, this is serious.”

“I’m being serious, Cap. He hates his brother. If he tried to kill someone just because I was talking to them, I can only imagine what he’d have in store for Jane.” He turned to go to his room, much more eager to sleep than talk to fussy-Steve.

“Uh--Pepper told me to tell you that you’re sleeping on the couch.” Steve said awkwardly. Tony turned back around, raising an eyebrow. “She said that if she was going to loose sleep for the company, so were you.”

“There are spare bedrooms, I--”

“All locked, Sir.” Jarvis said over the intercom. “Per the request of Ms. Potts.”

God-damnit, Tony thought. “I’m turning you back into a radio, Jarvis.”

So, Tony slept on the couch. Or, he tried to sleep on the couch. He’d lied to Steve when he said he didn’t think Loki was following him, in fact, he was sure Loki was following him. And now he couldn’t stop thinking about why. Was it possible Loki had caused him to have the nightmare the night before? Was he trying to mess with his psyche or something? He continuously shifted around on the cushions of the couch belonging to the game room, where he felt he’d be less likely to be awoken early the next morning. He settled, sighing, facing the couch, and began to drift off into a light sleep when he started to hear footsteps. They were light, carefully steps, and at first, he thought he was dreaming. But, as he heard the voice that accompanied them make itself known, he jumped completely out of his sleep.

“You said you wanted to talk?”

He jumped into a sitting position, turning to look at Loki. It took him a second to process, but when he did, he was on his feet. Loki was standing across from him, his hands seemingly folded together in front of his stomach. It was dark. Tony could barely see.

“Hey, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to ambush a man in bed?” Tony quipped after he’d exhausted his sailor’s vocabulary. His was heart racing. Loki was unamused, and approaching him. Oh shit. Loki stood over him, breathing heavily. The back of Tony’s legs pressed against the couch.

“I’m afraid I’m not here for words.” Loki wrapped a hand tightly around the back of Tony’s spine, and he was starting to really panic. Why hadn’t Jarvis sounded the alarm? He stared firmly into Loki’s eyes, and found that they were deep and probing.

“What are you here for, then?” Tony asked. His head was racing with scenarios, and none of them ended happily. He should’ve slept in his lab, goddamnit.

Loki didn’t say anything, didn’t reveal anything else with his eyes or his body language, but up close, he looked tired, and maybe a little pale. He leaned in and kissed him. Tony went completely rigid, absolutely petrified as his mind recovered the missing memories from the bathroom of the Shwarma place. He should’ve been shocked, and horrified. But there was a weird feeling coming over him that allowed him to suppress any of the emotions he knew he should’ve been feeling--any of the proper reactions he should have had.

He wasn’t, for example, pushing Loki away. He wasn’t screaming, biting, fighting, or grabbing Loki. He wasn’t worrying about alerting the other Avengers, and he wasn’t panicking anymore. He was, however, kissing Loki back. He was pressing his body against his, and he was, to his own surprise, enjoying it immensely. Loki grunted slightly as Tony pulled himself to Loki, and Loki pulled back, stepping away. Loki’s other hand was still on his abdomen. He was looking at Tony, a small, mischievous smile on his lips, a dark light glinting in his eyes--but Tony was right. Loki was pale, and there was a wet spot on Tony’s shirt.

“What is--” he looked down at his shirt. “Jarvis--” he looked up. Loki was gone. “...lights.” And the spot on his shirt was red, and smelt of iron, and red, and sticky, and red.

 


	5. I'm A Fool to Want You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which even standing proves difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm so sorry, guys. I'm such a lazy ass, I didn't realize how much time had passed until yesterday.  
> This chapter is really short; it's probably the shortest of all the chapters. I've had less time than I wanted to work with, and I'll admit, I'm fighting off writer's block.  
> I'll try to update again before next monday, with a chapter hopefully longer than chapter four.  
> I couldn't stand to make you all wait any longer. Enjoy!  
> Questions/comments/concerns, leave it here!  
> Remember, if you want to keep a tab on how progress is going, check out finishedlines.tumblr.com, my writing-associated blog. My main blog is available via personal request.  
> The title is a song by Billie Holiday. :)

He was hyperventilating. His hand was clutched to his abdomen, trying to stifle the bleeding. The room was spinning, and he had a headache growing between his temples.

He had a lot on his mind; the pain, the irrational decision he’d made when he’d confronted a sorcerer without knowing their level of power, that he’d at least gotten the job done--they were most likely dead by now--that he’d have no strength to heal with with magic at the moment. He was thinking about the blood spreading under his fingers, dripping onto the carpet, the furniture, staining everything. He was chastising himself for putting any level of trust in Tony Stark, knowing that he’d have known better had he not allowed himself to become so overly distracted by his misplaced feelings of sentiment, his internal programming that said he couldn’t go to anyone but Tony, and that it would be safe. He’d made the error of making a choice of life and death off of a misplaced emotion, and he’d nearly suffered for it. He’d barely escaped before Stark had raised the alarms, he’d barely had enough strength to get himself back here. He felt the cruel sting of rejection in his chest, and the throbbing ache of failure in his gut; wounds that bled deeply inside of him, spilling out pride.

Most on his mind was how dim the room was. He’d never realized how dark it was. The lights were flickering--no, no, not the lights. His eyes were shutting without his consent, fluttering back open defiantly. There was blood everywhere, and his senses were beginning to become overwhelmed by it. The smell thrust itself in his nose, gagging his throat, and he could feel the warmth of his blood pouring onto his skin, his shirt sticking to his body. He could hear it dripping onto the floor, and no matter where he looked, he found it.

He pictured the damage under his clothes, and how pale he must’ve been growing. His skin felt cold, and lifeless, as though he’d already died. It was not the wound that was causing the problem, it was the magic. His opponent had gotten in one good shot, and their magic left a strong trace that would take more strength than he a had to remove, and now he was dealing with the stress of another lightly made choice that was likely going to bite him in the ass later on. What had he been thinking, going to Stark like some friend, like someone he knew or trusted. He felt stupid, and pathetic. Worse, he knew everything now. He’d regained his memories of the bathroom, and with their return any chance of further humiliation waited around the corner.

But that was beginning to matter less and less. His focus was like water, spread in a mess, everywhere, thinning as it tried to grab at everything. The floor was tilting beneath him, and he tried in vain to stay on both feet. One of his knees was suddenly bent, and it wasn’t straightening, no matter what he told he tried to tell it to do. His other knee buckled, and he struggled to stay from falling completely. His vision twirled, twisted a tornado around him, and his arms were grabbing and reaching like tentacles, struggling to find purchase on something to hold his place, but there was nothing. His eyes were fluttering closed, and beating open, and fluttering closed, and beating open. He tried to move forward on his knees, and barely managed to catch himself before he collapsed completely; now trying to crawl to a table on all fours. But his elbows were locking and unlocking and his knees were wobbling. His hand was slippery with blood, and when he grabbed the table it slipped off again, and he collapsed; he fell, his strength flickering before it blew out, red whips swirling scarlet stains into his carpet, and he was lying, absently, on the floor.

\-----------------------

Had he not been there himself, he wouldn’t have believed it. Loki had appeared before him, weak and needing, only to flee before help could have been offered. If there hadn’t been an awful splotch of red on a shirt in his hamper the next day, he might’ve thought the whole thing was a warped nightmare--only he hadn’t slept. His heart had shuttered when he’d seen Loki, bathed in the light for just the briefest of milliseconds before disappearing into nothing. His eyes gaunt, face pallid and skin running with blood. He’d fled, fled like a vampire, only Tony hadn’t been to bring out the sun. He must’ve sent Loki into a panic. Loki was a wild, unpredictable sort of guy, his vast intelligence often serving him only in matters of action, and leasing out to morals that suited his temper. And he’d backed that same man, like a wounded panther, into a corner, and had scared him off. He should’ve felt lucky at not being attacked, perhaps, but he knew Loki had bigger things to care about.

And the kiss. The memories he’d lost from the bathroom--all having returned, left him bewildered and confused--and angry. Loki’s offer to join him, leaving him alive after he escaped at the Shwarma place, nearly killing the guy from the bar, his wild eyes when he realized Tony had been following him--what in god’s name was going on with him?

“Jarvis, what--”

“He did not present threat, sir,”

“Are you fucking crazy, Jarvis? He’s a god.”

“He did not present a threat, sir.”

“That’s it. You are getting a downgrade. Jarvis 2.0; the most over achieving microwave ever made.”

He’d disabled Jarvis, deciding screw what Pepper had said, and screw what Steve had said; he was going to lay in his own fucking bed if he wanted to. Jarvis was apparently not going to be any help against danger, anyways, and so he didn’t feel any less safe with it disabled. He was going to have to work on it in the morning and see how Loki had gotten in without his consent.

So he went to his room and laid in his bed, feeling it’s pointlessness, think that Loki was, once again, going to force him to loose sleep.

However, the thoughts, questions, and confusion eventually wore down his mind like an eraser. He fell asleep, too tired to be uneasy, at about three in the morning, and dreamt of Loki in a very different fashion than he ever had before, waking up embarrassed, surprised, and awkward.

And very, very, horny.

* * *

The avengers hadn’t had to deal with any Loki nonsense in weeks. He hadn’t shown his face, and while other problems presented themselves to the avengers, Tony found himself hoping for an attack more frequently than he should. Not to blow off steam, or to boost his ego, but to hear Jarvis say that he was off wrecking something or trying to dominate a continent somewhere, and not dead.

He didn’t say anything to his team the next morning. Steve had come into Tony’s room uninvited upon realizing he was no longer on the couch, and Tony had said some mean things in his tired, upset state, and Steve had left for a jog, unhappy and disappointed with him. Steve pushed him a bit on the subject later, but Tony shut him down and spent several hours in the lab following. Steve gave up on it.

That is, until the maid tried to do the laundry. Tony had completely forgotten about the blood on his t-shirt, and hadn’t thrown it away. The maid had freaked out, and unfortunately for Tony, Natasha had been nearby. Natasha showed it to Steve, who brought it back to Tony.

“What happened to you, man?”

Tony looked up at him. They were in the lab, and Tony was bent over a new invention. Steve was holding the shirt, his eyes narrowed and worried.

“Oh, that. It’s nothing.” Tony only glanced up at it for a moment, his eyes returning back to the device in front of him, his face refusing to give anything away.

“Nothing?” Steve asked, looking at the shirt. “Because it looks like ‘nothing’ lost a lot of blood.” He sighed. “Look, Tony--”

“Dude, calm down,” he said, putting down the screw driver and wiping his hand on rag. “It’s fine. I hit an animal driving home the other day. I picked it up, took it off the road--there was blood everywhere. Ask Pepper. She was there.” Steve’s face was incredulous. The blood had thoroughly soaked the shirt, and it was thick and stiff with blood; it seemed unlikely that Tony was enough of a bleeding heart to hold a dead animal to his shirt until it got this soaked. But he felt a little reassured when Tony mentioned Pepper. He knew that Pepper had Tony’s best interests at heart, and so he left a few minutes later.

Tony made a point of texting Pepper, asking her to lie for him.

 


	6. My Mind Rebels At Stagnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t recall permitting you to enter my home, Stark,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to have the formatting done nicely for you guys, but AO3 was not having it at aaaall. :(  
> As promised, I'll tell you the POV each time it changes.  
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter. The title is from a song by Hans Zimmer from the Sherlock Holmes soundtrack. It seemed fitting, because I feel like by now, everyone (you, and me, and Tony) is getting impatient. Is this going anywhere (well. It is. But Tony doesn't know that, so).  
> I'm starting college on monday, so I'm not sure when the next story will be out. I need to work on editing for mikuridaigo before I get to work on chapter seven (I know you're all dying to know what's going to happen in her story, too!)  
> *check the end for more important information!

Tony;

It’s was several weeks before anything of note happened again. The Avengers fought as needed; going on missions, working undercover, running companies, making scientific advances, and doing press when needed. At one point Tony found himself wondering how Clint and Natasha managed to continue their undercover work, now that the Avengers were known around the world for their roles in saving Manhattan [the two had only laughed when he’d asked].

All in all, they were all still fairly busy people. Steve was becoming modernized--at a slow but promising pace. He was currently trying to work up the courage to visit Peggy’s grave (he was also planning to visit Howard’s, but knowing it might upset Tony, he kept it to himself). He was working fervently with SHIELD on various things, none of which he ever seemed to have time to talk about.

Natasha was still high in-demand for her spy work. Nobody could work a person quite like Natasha Romanov; her skills were looked upon pridefully from everyone in SHIELD, and being so successful, her intelligence and acting skills were frequently needed in different places for interrogation, Intel, and leverage. The common people didn’t know it, but for every public attack, act of terrorism, government infiltration, [etc] that happened in America, Natasha generally prevented two or three.

Thor was had a lot going on for him, as well. He spent a good amount of time in Asgard, finally having returned the tesseract after realizing that Loki was not going to be caught anytime soon. He spoke more with his parents on his brother, and was able to spend time with Sif and the Warriors Three. Upon returning to no earth and hearing of a lack of activity from Loki’s corner, he visited Dr. Selvig, Darcy, and, of course, Jane, whom he had not seen since before the bifrost had been destroyed. He was hesitant about visiting her, worried that Loki would strike while he was away, but the Avengers always reassured him that staying away from Jane would only mess up his game in the field should Loki decide to attack soon. Better to have no ally, than an ally who would get you killed, Clint reasoned.

Clint often traveled with Bruce, as a just-in-case, when he wasn’t running a mission of his own. People had a better view of Bruce now, after he defended the city from Loki, but they were also still rightfully cautious and overly paranoid. Clint always volunteered to go with him whenever his scientific progress bid him to travel, and Bruce never complained (Clint, however, had never been attacked by the Hulk--unlike Natasha, Thor, and Steve--who’d been too close during a fight). Clint had strong deduction skills, was extremely lethal with a bow, and a humor that either won people over or immediately put them off. Like Natasha, he was highly in demand with SHIELD.

Tony might’ve volunteered to stand with Banner on more of his trips, but he often found that he just didn’t have the time--or the energy. His time was dedicated to his inventions, his company, being Iron Man, and his relationship with Pepper--which, he hated to admit, was starting to fall apart. He was too occupied, too confused, and too caught up in being part of a “family” to really focus on Pepper half as much as he should’ve, and while Pepper tried to be patient, she could only force herself to handle so much.

There was also the fact that Tony was being paranoid. Always holding her hand when they went out, insisting that she keep to a buddy system--and all in all treating her like she couldn’t handle herself. Pepper had gotten fed up, and as a result, starting taking a fighting class in her spare time to shut him up--only it didn’t.

He was subtle about it, true enough, but you could only be asked; “where are you?”, “where are you going?”, “you aren’t going alone, are you?” so many times before you started to feel incompetent. Having completely exhausted her patience, Pepper now made up excuses for why she couldn’t go out with Tony, who didn’t blame her for doing it. Their relationship was falling apart, and he knew it.

All in all, there were a lot of things worrying Tony. Was Loki still stalking him? Was he planning to hurt someone again? Was Loki still in danger? Was this long absence simply a “long absence”, or was he planning something? Was he still on Earth at all? Had Loki approached any of the other Avengers they way he’d approached Tony? What if Thor found out? He had millions of questions, and he could ask nobody but himself.

He’’s not stalking you anymore.

He’s Loki; somewhere, shit is going down.

Maybe; but Loki could handle himself.

He’s planning something, for his person who’d attacked him, for Asgard, or for Earth.

Probably; there isn’t anything else out there for him.

Most likely not. He’d lose his mind--and Tony would lose his head.

He was, however, no longer panicking about the night Loki had showed up bleeding. Loki was a god; he could take care of himself. But he had no idea who’d attacked Loki, and no idea what Loki had been up to, coming onto him that way. Loki was a lot of things, but sexual deviant didn’t seem like one of them--well, not at first. He was still been having the dream and he couldn’t make them stop. He was beginning to realize more and more how much sense it would make that Loki was a sexual deviant, and his subconscious mind kept thinking of different ways he would take advantage of it.

Damn him and his perverted brain.

He was worried that, at some point, Pepper was going to hear him saying something telling in his sleep. This didn’t turn out to be a problem, however, as she was now avoiding seeing him romantically. They were still going out--as far as he knew--but they never actually went out. Or stayed in. They were still Tony Stark and Pepper Pots, but they weren’t Tony and Pepper anymore.

He was sure, however, that if she did stay over, she’d figure out that his paranoia wasn’t the only thing amiss. His dreams were becoming so vivid that he began to wonder if Loki had actually made a move on him at all. Had he just imagined the whole thing? Was he working so much that he couldn’t figure out who had almost slept with him and who hadn’t (not that such things were uncommon for him)?

Had Loki even really tried to get him to switch sides? He couldn’t have made that much up, could he?

Despite all of these Loki related questions, he spent the majority of his time focusing on his work; he was still Tony Stark, after all, and Tony Stark needed to keep his shit together.

It was a night like any other when Loki made his reappearance; the avengers were all at the “in between” of missions, projects, inventions and the like, and Clint had suggested they go get a pizza. Steve had agreed that it would be a nice for them all to get out of the house and do something normal, and so they’d all climbed into one of Stark’s convertibles and headed down to their favorite pizza joint,

They’d all been sitting around at the table, eating and laughing. It had been a great day for the Avengers. They didn’t get a lot of days off, being the superheroes New York depended on, and when they did get time off, it was rarely ever on the same day as everyone else. It was due to careful planing on their part that they’d been able to spend group time together. It was the fourth day of their mutual vacations, and for the most part, they hadn’t had to do that much avenger’s business.

They sat at a table outside and relaxed, ate, and enjoyed themselves. They cracked jokes, laughed at villains, compared fighting techniques, and relived their battles.

Tony was clinking beers with Natasha, laughing about a joke she’d made about Dr. Doom when he saw him. It was the briefest of glimpses; a man, sitting at a table, in a crowd, holding newspaper he wasn’t reading. He wouldn’t have second guessed the man at all, had he not looked up from behind the newspaper, straight at Tony. He stood up immediately, smile slipping off his face as he dropped his beer, breaking on the floor. It was a just a glimpse, one moment looking at Tony, the next, up and gone in the night’s crowd. He rushed after, the and the only thing he could think to say before he stood up, nearly knocking over the table, slipped out of his mouth was his name;

“Loki--!” and he was running after him.

“Tony, what are you--” their voices were drowned out quickly in the crowd, unheard as he rushed after the god, not stopping to think for even a second about what he was doing. “Laufeyson!” He called into the crowd as he rushed through, shoving people. He didn’t want to yell Loki’s first name into the air, where it would scare and alarm people.

He followed Loki for four more blocks before He saw Loki rounding the corner in a rush and cursed to himself, speeding up after him. He watched Loki turn discretely into a building that was being renovated. Tony ducked in after him hurriedly, unsure of whether any of the Avengers were still following him.

It was dark inside, as he’d expected. There was a tall lamp plugged in to his left, but it wasn’t turned on. It was an apartment building in the makings of being fixed, and there was a stair case several feet in front of the door. He turned the light on, and saw that he was alone on this floor. But he was sure Loki had gone in here.

“Loki?” He called, standing at the base of the stairs. “Loki, where the fuck are you?” He started walking up the stairs, and the further away he got from the light, the harder it was to see. Having nothing else, he used the flashlight app on his phone and the light from his arc reactor. Standing in the hallway of the first floor, he could see that there were two doors. They were both locked. “Loki, what the fuck are you playing at here?” he called out, going up the second flight. There had been an elevator on the first floor, but with the building in the middle of a renovation, he decided it was better not to take his chances. He could see now that it didn’t lead up to the first floor, and when he felt along the walls to find the doors--locked--he discovered it didn’t lead to the second, either. He went up the next flight when he discovered the doors were locked on that floor was well, cursing to himself as he did so. ‘’What the fuck am I doing, anyways?’ He thought.

He walked to the top floor, finding the only place the elevator led to. There was only one other door. He reached for it, sighing, and stepping inside. A gush of cold air rushed out at him. He walked forward cautiously, not riding the walls. “Lok--oh fucking shit--!” He had turned his head to the left, missing the tell tale shine of the phone light, or even the arc reactor, against something metal, tripping over one of the tall lights and falling forward. The light bulb in it shattered. He pulled the thing off of him, cursing angrily. He heard a snicker from the corner of the room.

“You’re a bastard.” Tony said, carefully rolling onto his back, only to get a shard of thin glass in his back. Loki flicked on one of the lights near him in the corner, his lips curved into a mocking smile. This room, unlike everything else he’d seen, was decorated and properly lit; Loki had flicked the proper light on, and it was a furnished, nice looking lamp that Tony had face-planted on, not a thin, wire-framed light.

“I don’t recall permitting you to enter my home, Stark,” he replied, his eyes glinting, ‘His home--?’ Loki lived here?’ It wasn’t a bad looking apartment. But it was hard to picture Loki living anywhere steadily. “I must inform you,” he looked at Tony’s phone. “If you attempt to contact anyone with that, I will be forced to kill you.”

Loki was dressed very simply. He had on a black, long sleeved dress shirt, a dark green well-fitting vest, and black, slim jeans. There was a grey, cashmere scarf wrapped around his neck, and he had trimmed his hair since Tony had last seen him. It was combed back the same way it always was, not looking the slightest bit disheveled from the chase. He looked thinner than when Tony had last seen him.

“Oh,” Tony responded stupidly, turning his phone off, and showing Loki before putting it in his pocket. “Well, I don’t exactly remember telling you that you could come into mine, but that didn’t stop you--from using it as a head quarters for the tesseract, or leaving a--rather nice, I must say, dent in the ground, or busting in only to disappear a minute later,” He felt his back, where the glass had stabbed him. It wasn’t serious. Might need some stitches. It hurt, but he’d had worse. “Not to mention the blood stain from that last one,”

“And I see you’ve come to return the favor,” Loki said when the hand Tony had used to feel at the wound came back with blood on it. Loki walked towards him, and Tony hated having to stare up at him like this. ‘Superior bastard,’ he thought as Loki’s think-soled black shoes crunched on shards of glass. He offered his hand. “I, however, can act as a good host.” Tony took the hand grudgingly, his back aching sharply as he stood. “Turn around, now,” Loki said calmly.

“Why, so you can stab me?”

Loki raised an eyebrow at him “I might,” he said sarcastically, “but you’ve spared me the effort.” Tony turned around, against his better judgement. He felt Loki’s eyes on his back. Loki used the opening from the shard to rip the back of the shirt open, to Tony’s horror.

“What the f--”

“There are small shards, as well,” Loki ignored him. “I’m going to pull the larger one out myself.”

“Uh, no, thanks, Loki. I think that I’m actually going to get the fuck out of here, and--JESUS!” Tony’s eyes watered with pain. The bastard had yanked the shard out already.

“Stop complaining. Hold still.” Loki pressed his fingers against Tony’s back, and the smaller pieces fell out without complication or pain. His hand stayed there for a second, and then the pain subsided.

“D-did you heal it?” Tony asked, unable to see.

“No, you fool,” Loki said, walking in the the apartment’s kitchen and opening a cabinet. “The pain’s only stopped.” He reached easily to the top cabinet in his kitchen, pulling out a first aid kit, to Tony’s disbelief, and bandaged the larger wound.

“When did you find time to go to nursing school?” Tony asked.

“I have no time for your petty misogynist jokes.” Loki replied, using magic to fix Tony’s shirt. “Now please, I’ve more than returned the favor. Escort yourself out. I need to find a new place to live.”

Tony was, to say the least, confused at Loki’s casual attitude. What was it Loki wanted from him? He had kissed him before, and now he was letting him live. Letting him leave in better condition. “Where’ve you been the past few weeks?” He asked, turning his back to the door to face Loki.

Loki rolled his eyes. “I hardly see why it concerns you,”

“You were covered in blood the last time I saw you.”

Loki scowled at him. “Yes, I remember,” he said, looking at him with a leashed anger. “And, in my weakened state, I erroneously decided I could trust you, even if just a little,” Tony was taken by surprise. Loki had come to him as a last ditch effort, and now he thought Tony had betrayed him. Loki held up the shard that had been embedded in Tony’s back. It was long, and had blood staining an inch and a half of it. “I will not make the same mistake twice,” he held out the shard to Tony, showing it to him clearly before snapping it in half. He wrapped it in his fingers, and Tony watched as Loki walked into the kitchen again, and, reaching into another cabinet, pulled out a clear glass bottle with a cork in it’s top. It’s bottom was in a spherical shape with a long, slim neck. He opened his palm and revealed red sand instead of glass shards. He poured it into the bottle, corked it, and then set it on the counter. His body moved with a quiet purpose, his movements all sure and smooth, too perfect to be human.

Tony didn’t think he wanted to bother asking about the sand.

“Is that why you’ve got a stick up your ass?” Tony asked, prying his eyes away from the bottle. “Because you think I tried to turn you into the avengers?” Loki leaned against the counter, and Tony walked to the kitchen, while keeping a safe distance away from Loki.

Loki’s eyes sparked. “You would have--”

“Tried to help you, dumbass,” he said, ignoring Loki’s obvious annoyance at being interrupted. “You freaked out and left when I tried to turn the lights on, leaving me standing there thinking ‘Jesus, well, I’ve met people who’re afraid of the dark, but this is a first,’” He said, raising his arms in exaggerated frustration as he explained. “I didn’t even know what was wrong with you until I noticed that you’d ruined my shirt,” Loki looked calmed, but still suspicious. “And here I thought we were starting to be friends.” Loki licked his lips thoughtlessly, and Tony was reminded that he hadn’t yet addressed Loki’s bipolar sexual advances. “Not to mention what happened in the bathroom...and again the night you disappeared,” he said awkwardly. He was trying not to stare at Loki. At the way the dark jeans hugged his hips, or the way the light shone off his wrists, the quirk in his eyebrow, or the line of his cheekbone. His skin was beautiful and flawless in the light, his lips a light pink, eyes glinting green. ‘The eyes, Stark,’ he thought to himself. ‘Look at his eyes. Stop embarrassing yourself.’

Loki laughed bitterly. “I would not expect a repeat performance,” he replied, “you’ve made your feelings very clear,”

Tony raised his eyebrow. There was no way he was going to let Loki try to blame him for something he’d never done--again. Not to mention that after all the dreams he’d had about Loki, he couldn’t let him back out so easily. Not when he was so close, in this abandoned apartment building, in those tight jeans. “Oh, I have?” He asked. “Did the way I kissed you back tell you how much I despise you?” ‘Wait. Wait. What are you Saying?’ “My loud declaration of revenge reach your ears all the way here?” ‘Shut up Tony, shut up!’ “My pathetic attempts to find you to be sure you were okay reveal my deep longing to see you die? No? How about the way I frantically followed you back and then asked if you were okay?” ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING STOP’ his common sense was trying to kick him in the ass, get him to stop talking, get him to alert the avengers to where he was. Tony had moments were his conscience was enough to stop him from doing something stupid--however, as his eyes followed the line of Loki’s neck, he knew this was not going to be one of those times. “Yup, this ship sank faster than the titanic.”

Loki stared at him queerly, his eyebrows just barely furrowed, and he stared at Tony for a second, his face giving away his surprise and curiosity before he broke into a laugh, his smile like a tiger’s. He approached Tony in the small kitchen slowly, his walk a confident stride. He looked down at Tony, who was mentally preparing himself for whatever it was Loki was going to do. He could kill him, or he could taunt him, and he could also kiss him. Tony was praying for the latter. All of this time in between the kiss and his dreams had made Loki into a fantasy, almost, a fixation, and standing here, in front of the real thing, it was hard to realize that he was just perfect as he had been in his head. If he didn’t kill him, that is.

“Perhaps, then,” Loki’s voice was softer, a threatening whisper, and Tony waited, his fear and desire rushing up through his heart, where it waited behind the arc reactor. “we should look to the water,” he said, “for I have no intention of going down with it,” his voice was in Tony’s ear, and he could hear the smile in it. Tony couldn’t tell if it was a threat or a lifeline; a grinning shark or a yellow lifeboat.

“Guess I’ll have to build another,” He said, and Loki pulled back slightly, staring directly into Tony’s eyes, looking for a tell, a flinch, or fear. For anything that would make him doubt himself again, and Tony looked straight into Loki’s eyes, his heart still thudding as he waited.

Whatever it was Loki was trying to find in Tony’s eyes, he didn’t find it.

Loki pressed his lips against Tony’s in a sudden, snake-like movement, and there was a challenge behind it; ‘Are you prepared for this?’

Tony kissed back fiercely.

‘You bet your ass I am.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where it'd going to go from there. Sex is obviously going to be a topic in the next chapter--moreso than before. I'm not sure how into detail I'll be going if, in fact, our men do decide to climb into bed together. It'll be a surprise for us all!


	7. Drawing A Line in the Sand...and Crossing It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Um. Well. Okay.  
> I rushed the publishing again, so expect some mistakes. I'll go through and do a quick fix ASAP.  
> The rating went up again~!

Tony;

Loki pressed his body up against Tony’s, his arm bracketing Tony back against the counter, his lips pressed against Tony’s with a vengeance. He pulled away slowly, the light in his eyes glinting like a wild animal’s. His eyes found Tony’s searchingly, his gaze so intense Tony almost had to look away. Tony leaned back in, pressing his lips against Loki’s, and he took no time responding, taking control immediately, rubbing his body against Tony’s, hips grinding expertly.

His butt pressed back against the counter, the button pressing the phone back on again. Tony started a bit as it vibrated in his back pocket. Loki bit at Tony’s lip, his kisses moving down from his mouth and making their way to his throat. Tony’s hands slipped into Loki’s hair, gripping tightly as Loki made work at his throat, his kisses graceless, teeth gnawing, lips soft.  
Tony’s phone rang.

Tony reached into his pocket, but Loki didn’t stop. He looked at the screen. It was Steve. He pressed ignore, and two seconds later it began to ring again.

“Stark--” Loki whispered warningly, his breathing heavy.

“J-just give me a moment.” He said, regretting it immediately when Loki stopped, straightening up and leaning back against the counter across from Tony, as though nothing had happened. “Steve?” He breathed into the phone.

“Tony?! What happened to you?!” Steve’s outraged voice said from the phone. “Where’d you go? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Calm down. I saw Loki,” he made eye contact with the god, who didn’t say anything, only raising an eyebrow at him.  
“Did you--”  
“No, no. He got away. I’ve been chasing him for ages. He just disappeared around a corner. Bastard’s more slippery than a dying fish.” He winked at Loki.  
“Where are you? Do you want us to pick you up?”  
“Uh--too far away. I’ll get a taxi, Steve, it’s fine,” He looked down at the floor again.

“Tony--”

“No, I swear, Steve. I’m good. I’ll be fine.” he sighed. “I’ll be back soon.” and he hated having to say it.

“Are you sure you don’t want--”

“Bye, Steve.”

Steve sighed over the phone. “Bye, Tony.”

He hung up the phone. “Baby-sitters are missing me,” he sighed.

“A shame, Stark,” he said, moving closer again. “Another time, then,” and Tony felt himself relax. He couldn’t pass on a fuck this good.

“One for the road?” He smirked, standing face to face with him.

“I think I can oblige.”

Loki leaned in and kissed him again, and Tony pressed into it, wanting to stay, and finish what they’d started. It was a slower, more deliberate kiss, and Loki’s hand was on the back of Tony’s head, pressing him into it, biting Tony’s lips as he pulled away.

Tony stared at him as he pulled away, eyes taunting him with all the things he was leaving behind when he left the apartment.

“Are you going to be here if I come back?” He asked, not yet turning to leave.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Loki replied honestly. “We shall see. Though I warn you, Stark, any attempt to share any information on this location would result in my immediate vacancy, and your immediate death,” He said conversationally.

“Good to know,” He stepped out of Loki’s grasp, and, biting back the rising temptation his his body, he turned around, glancing back as he pulled the door closed. He took pause. “So, if I come back, say, tomorrow evening, could I, perhaps, expect to find a certain guy here?”

“We shall see, Stark. We shall see.”

Tony smiled a bit, and turned, closing the door behind himself. So, Loki might’ve been up for a full round, but he wasn’t going to trust Tony in the meantime. Which meant it could be awhile before he saw the God again, if he did, in fact, leave, which Tony was now sure he’d do.

He was halfway downstairs before he turned around, realizing what an idiot he was being. He ran back up the stairs, deciding that Steve could wait, and the Avengers could wait, and they were supposed to be on vacation, right? So fuck it, he was going to live it up.   
“Loki!” He called, reaching the top floor. He tried for the handle, but the door was locked. “Hey, uh--Loki?”

“Yes?” The door opened, and Loki stood on the other side, his left eyebrow raised. “Did you require something else, or are you just wasting my time?”

Tony stared at him, his heart thudding under the arc reactor.

“Yeah, uh, can I come back inside?” He asked awkwardly.

“Whatever for?” Loki fought a smirk.

“Oh, god damnit, you bastard--” Tony replied, pushing his way into the apartment. “Do I have to say it?” He pushed the door closed behind himself. “For you,”

Loki was on him in a second, one hand on Tony’s side, the other on the back of his neck, pushing his face into a kiss as he shoved him back against the door, grinding his body up against Tony’s. Tony wasn’t going to waste any time, either. He shamelessly grabbed Loki’s ass, Loki’s tongue in his mouth, his heart pounding.

Tony couldn’t believe what was happening. Loki’s hand slid from the back of his neck to the area under his chin where his fingers massaged deeply into Tony’s neck, his lips straying Tony’s as his other hand slipped under his shirt. His kisses were soft and gentle on his face, only to become aggressive and hungry on his neck, biting and sucking firmly on the skin. Tony’s head fell back against the door, his hands slipping under the waistline of Loki’s jeans, hands sliding to either side of his bare hips, fingers rubbing into the skin, nails dragging in his skin.

“Go on,” Loki whispered abettingly. “you aren’t going to hurt me.”

His mouth was at the collar of Tony’s shirt, and he pulled back, staring directly into Tony’s--which is really saying something, when the idea of it is actually put into application. Loki, the God of Mischief, who had thrown him out a window, beat the shit out him, and left him with some of the hottest dreams he’d ever had--was now staring at him, face full of lust, and in the moment, Tony felt a lot of things.

He felt strong, and weak, and invincible, and fragile. He was with a God--and that God could kill him at any moment, and it sent fear and adrenaline, and excitement through him. His blood was rushing lower, and yet his brain seemed to be on overdrive with excitement. Then again, so was his dick.

Loki pulled off his scarf, tossing it on the floor, and Tony pushed himself off the door. They stumbled into the kitchen, lips reaching for each other as they pulled off Tony’s shirt and kicked off their shoes. His heart skipped a beat when he remembered the reactor, and Loki’s eyes flashed with curiosity as he spotted it.

“Such technology,” he whispered.

“Focus, lover boy,” Tony responded.

Loki shoved Tony back against the counter, leaning against the island across from him as he unbuttoned the green vest, his lips spread into a leering smile that showcased his teeth.

‘God damnit. Just take your pants off.’ He fought the urge to blurt out.  
Loki was taking his time, undoing button by button, long, nimble fingers working dexterously. He shirked off the vest, and Tony grabbed his arm, yanking his body back against his own.  
“You’d think you do this regularly,” he said, grinding his hips against Loki’s as he reached for the buttons of his black shirt. Tony was equally--if not more so-- practiced in undoing buttons (especially other people’s). Loki’s shirt of off in no time, and then he had his hands back on Loki’s hips, his mouth pressed up against Loki’s before  he trailed them lower, moving quickly, rough bites and soft kisses trailing on the pale expansion of skin, over his chest, biting at his nipple, trailing lower to his abdomen. He bit fiercely at Loki’s abdomen, the soft flesh turning pink under the pressure of his teeth. The God looked down at him, hand having found placement in Tony’s hair where it gripped fervently, his eyes hooded but alight with excitement as vulgar sounds swam to his ears.

He yanked Tony back up, and kissed him savagely, his other hand splayed over Tony’s naval, sliding down and undoing the belt in smoothly rushed movements before he slid it from the loops before brushing his fingertips over the button of his jeans before sliding his hand under Tony’s jeans.  
Tony hummed happily against Loki’s mouth, and Loki bit his bottom lip, dragging his teeth against it slowly, his tongue sliding across it in his mouth, and Tony’s hands moved under the back of his companion’s jeans, grabbing and squeezing at the flesh.  He stared straight into his eyes the entire time.

Tony was determined not to look away.

Loki’s hand was more skillful and pleasing than he’d dared imagine--if that were at all possible. He slid his hand out again, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper with one hand. Tony let out a slow breath of relief, and pulled out of the kisses again.  
He licked his way back down Loki’s torso, hands still groping at Loki’s ass until he reached his jeans again. Tony bit at Loki’s hip bones as he undid the god’s pants. slowly pulling them down.  
“Stark,” Loki’s voice was a dark, labored utterance that made more blood rush between his legs. “What are you doing?”  
“Beating you to the punch,” he said. ****  
****

He wanted control over the god, in this--the most primal sense. And the god seemed to have wanted the same from him. He wanted it first.

Loki’s head fell back and a deep, feral, growl of a sound escaped from his throat.

When Tony straightened back up, Loki looked completely transformed; the animal part of him having taken over the sane sections of his mind. His eyes burned like fire, and he bucked Tony back against the counter, knocking the bottle of red sand on it’s side.

He expected little preparation, and was surprised when Loki paused, seemingly realizing for the first time where they were.

“Not here,” he said, his voice still low and untamed. He grabbed Tony and pulled him off the counter, leading in a strut to his bedroom.

The bed was big, it’s frame black and intimidating, the sheets silk green, the furniture all black. He shoved Tony back onto the bed before reaching into a drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. He turned and looked at Tony, his smirk provocative, eyes darkened and lustful as he climbed on top of him. Tony watched his movements hungrily; his advances smooth and predatory, his body lithe and slim. He leaned down over him,  lips swollen and pink as he leaned down and kissed Tony again, one elbow propping him up as the other reached down, fingers slick and eager.

Tony groaned, back arching, during the process. Loki watched him with wide, excited eyes, drinking in the sight the same way Tony had in the kitchen, his smile lecherous and breathing heavy. He was careful not to finish the man with only his fingers, pulling out and entering again, properly.

The two men moaned in unison, and Loki paused over him, panting heavily. He waited for a confirmation to continue.

“Oh, f-fuck, come on,” Tony said.

He only needed to be told once.

The room filled was filled with sounds of heavy breathing and groans. Loki bent in and kissed Tony again, their kisses cut short between breathes, their hearts pounding heavily. Tony’s hands clawed into Loki’s back, his head tilting up.

“S...sw...switch...” Tony gasped, and Loki paused before understanding. He climbed off, laying on his back. Tony straddled himself over Loki, carefully impaling himself again.Loki reached for Tony, matching their thrusts with his hand.

“Oh, fuck...” Tony muttered, riding him more quickly.

“Faster, Stark,” he said, his thumbs rubbing over Tony’s hip bones, fingers gripping hips tightly, urging his movements.

Tony came first, white splattering on the pale skin below him, though he continued deliberately.

(Loki only lasted a few moments longer).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I cannot believe I wrote that.  
> I cannot Believe I wrote that.  
> Uh. I hope you enjoyed.  
> Please leave comments. :D  
> (You guys can thank mikuridaigo for not having more stalling in this chapter! I had to consult with her on whether or not I should torture you guys more. Lucky for you, she opted I just go for it).


	8. The Consequences of Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I lost track of time, or else I would have gotten this done sooner!  
> I should mention that you only got this chapter before next monday is Mikuridaigo asked how my progress was--thank goodness.  
> It's a fairly boring chapter, I think...actual plot points Will return in chapter nine.  
> Enjoy, and please, feel free to leave comments, corrections, and critiques at the bottom!

He had been fast asleep, wandering through dreams peacefully when a hand had shoved his shoulder--violently--forcing him to wake up. He let out a long, annoyed groan, and received another shove.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered into the pillow. “whatdoyouwant?”

“That infernal device of yours...won’t stop ringing,” Loki replied sourly from the other side of the bed, where he was laying on his stomach as well, head turned away.

“My what?” He mumbled back, not getting up.

“You-your cellphone, curse the thing. “ Tony was too tired to hear the malice in Loki’s voice.

“Let it,” Tony replied.

Loki shoved him off the bed angrily.

“Motherfuc--fine!” Tony said, clearly pissed.  He got up, walking into the living room and flicking on a light. He could hear his phone ringing from his pants, still lying on the floor of the kitchen. He slouched over as he grabbed them, digging around until he found his phone. When he saw the caller ID, he remembered himself for the first time that night. The call was from Steve--and if Loki’s tone said anything, he’d called more than once. He rejected it, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t want to deal with Steve right now. He opted instead to send a text message to all of the avengers.

_Ran into a friend, went out drinking._ _  
__Couldn’t get a taxi. Got a hotel room._ _  
_ _Phone signal wasn’t working. Just fixed it._ _  
___See you tomorrow afternoon.

He sent it and turned his phone off. He figured it was best he not risk waking up Loki again. He walked, zombie-like, back to the bed, collapsing on his stomach on the black sheets.

 

When he woke up, it was to the gentle sound of rain. After several attempts to stay asleep, he gave in and sat up, forgetting for a brief moment where he was. The room was lit by the gentle blue and greys of storm clouds, the water clattering against the glass panel of the window on his side of the bed.

He rolled over and saw Loki, laying on his side, his bare back facing Tony on the other side of the bed. Loki hadn’t touched him when they’d finished. He seemed completely against it, actually, carefully pulling Tony off himself before silently climbing under the sheets and rolling over onto his stomach, and had their limbs brushed at any moment in the night, Loki was quick to move away. Tony didn’t care much. He wasn’t sure what this was at first, but Loki’s movements confirmed it was a one night thing. At least understanding what was expected of him (which was nothing) he’d know how to behave the next time they ran into each other in a fight. He knew now that this didn’t mean anything; Loki was bored, and he’d wanted to have sex with Tony. So he’d gone about “getting his attention”.

He just sat there for a minute, the sheet pooled in his lap, looking at Loki. He felt like a voyeur, stealing sights from time’s blind eye, things he was never meant to see. Loki slept in a position that combined the “yearner’s” and the “skydiver’s” position--his stomach facing down against the sheets, his left arm wrapped around a pillow he held to his chest, partly laid on. His hair was tangled, and lightly waved, gorgeous even in it’s disheveled state, the black a dark contrast against his white skin. He still felt as though he was in danger, watching a sleeping tiger. He held still, as though moving would disturb the man and find a claw to his neck. Even asleep, Loki posed a huge threat against Tony’s subconscious.

His stomach growled loudly, and immediately he forgot those thoughts. He rolled out of bed, not waking Loki, padding out of the room and pulling the door closed silently. He picked his clothes up off the floor, sighing as he tugged his pants back on and walked to the fridge. He was fairly unsurprised to discover the random assortment of food; orange juice, milk, pickles, eggs, cucumbers, relish, butter, cheese, lima beans, bacon--it seemed as though he had just thrown things into a buggy and bought them depending on how interested he was in them. He did, however, have breakfast basics, and as far as Tony was concerned, that was what mattered.

He turned on the stove and searched for a frying pan. He cooked the tortillas, cracked and scrambled the eggs, and cooked the bacon.

“Who would’ve thought,’ he muttered to himself, putting the milk and cheese, which he’d used in the scrambled eggs, back into the fridge. “that I’d find myself here, in Loki’s apartment at seven am...” he took the frying pan off the stove. “cooking in his kitchen,”

“Certainly not your allies,” Loki said, his voice in Tony’s ear as he leaned over his shoulder from behind. He felt a drop of water fall onto his back, and glanced at Loki. He was wet, obviously fresh from a shower. He smelt like fresh mint, and the breath from his words washed over Tony like ice. He turned to face him.

“Definitely not,” He replied, taking in Loki’s gorgeous, slim form. His skin and muscles fit his bones just right, curving in some places and smoothing out over others. The towel ran low on him, and Tony fought the urge to grab him again. His hair was carelessly dripping wet, water freefalling down his body; Tony followed them down, remembering the feel of the same skin beneath his fingers, and lips, and teeth. He turned back to the food to stop his starring, making a taco. “Did I wake you up?” He faced back again, repeating in his head: “eye contact, eye contact, eye contact, eye contact...”

“With your ballerina steps? Not at all,” he replied sarcastically. “Why? Entertaining the notion of serving me in my bedstead?”

Tony made a face at him. “Hardly,” He shoved half the taco into his mouth. “But there’s plenty,” As hungry as he was, he found a different appetite rising in his gut.

Loki’s wet skin was shining like porcelain, a gorgeous off white. His skin tucked into his smooth muscles in a firmness he imagined he could still feel beneath his fingers. He wasn’t particularly muscular; his body was built in such a way that his lightly toned muscles shown in smooth dips and soft curves. His waist was very thin, and he moved in polished gestures that reminded Tony of a capoeira dancer, his body so long and fluid feline that it was no wonder he always dreamt Loki would be flexible (a theory he hadn’t been able to prove or disprove), although he would’ve been lying if he said it hadn’t been a hell of a night. Loki had been impatient and continuous, giving Tony only a few minutes before seducing him again.

He wasn’t bruised, Tony realized. He’d scratched, bitten, and sucked on Loki’s skin, and yet there were no marks, no breaks in the skin, not even red marks from the night before. The only pinkness was around his lips and his eyes, natural and independent of any actions.

Loki’s eyes darted to the food and then back to Tony and he gave a small shake of the head and went instead to the coffee Tony had brewed, pouring a cup and tossing in two sugar cubes and stirring silently as he leaned against the counter. If he was surprised to find Tony still in his apartment, he didn’t show it.

“It’s not polite to stare,” Loki teased, smirking behind his coffee mug.

“You don’t have any bruises,” and he felt good having an excuse for it.

It was ridiculous, the game he was playing. He wanted to kiss Loki again, to slide his hands over his hips and squeeze his small waist, to run his fingers through Loki’s hair and tug at it’s roots and kiss him. He found himself thinking about how soft his lips were, while remembering the blades of his teeth. He wanted to leave lasting marks on his body, angry red and pink and purple marks that worked as landmarks against his skin. And here he was, acting against his want again.

“I’m a god, Stark,” he laughed. “It requires more than nipping to leave an impression. As I said before, you aren’t going to hurt me. Disappointed?’

“Honestly? Hell, yeah, I am. Does that mean that without the suit I basically have no chance of leaving a mark?”

Loki turned away from him, setting the coffee on the counter in front of him. “Not necessarily. You’d be incapable of doing so in this context without my consent of it, for sure. And it would, I restate, require more than nipping at the skin.” Tony watched the water droplets fall from his hair, caressing his marble skin as they followed the path of least resistance--the curve around his shoulder blades, the smooth curve in the center of his back. Tony swallowed heavily. “Something much more difficult for a human.”

“Is that a challenge?” He shot back. He was either going to have to stop staring, or take off his pants. At this point, there was only room for one.

“Hmmm...?” Loki replied innocently, glancing over his shoulder. “Feeling inferior, Stark?”

Tony laughed. “Look who’s talking, brother of Thor,” and he could’ve sworn the room got a little colder.

“I would not provoke a god where I you. Do not think I’m a man so overly affected by sentiment I wouldn’t threaten a man simply because I’ve has sex with him,” Loki said, his voice a tinge more serious. “And I’d mean to keep to those threats, should you make it necessary for me to.”

Tony walked up behind Loki, his hands ghosting over the god’s torso. “Please, then,” he said, rubbing his fingers over the god’s body, his soft touch growing stronger, his nails tilting into the grip unforgivingly. “Make threats of a different sort.” He put his chin on the god’s shoulder, leaning his head against Loki’s and drug his nails back and forth along Loki’s abdomen. “...If you’re up to it,” He took in a slow, cherishing breath. Up this close, Loki smelt amazing. His hair smelt like peppermint, and fields, and his skin smelt like the beach, and like something else dark that Tony couldn’t put a name to. It was a strange combination, and yet, it was something that only made Loki more interesting, more beautiful, more necessary. He kissed Loki’s shoulder and neck lightly, patiently, waiting for a response.

Loki turned his head to look at Tony, whose hands were back on either side of him, massaging his sides, thumbs rubbing into his back as his fingers rubbed in to either side of his navel. They slid up slowly from there, hands on his shoulders like backpack straps.

Loki looked at him for a long moment, his face incredulous, an eyebrow raised. Tony bit his neck, not lightly. A smiled curled onto Loki’s face.

“What sort of threats would you have me make?” He asked, his voice a dark whisper. Tony dug his nails into Loki’s skin again, and his eyes sparked with passion. He kissed Tony fiercely, his tongue tracing Tony’s teeth, and Tony pulled away some, biting on Loki’s bottom lip, sucking on it and then dragging his teeth across it, watching it flush pink when he pulled away for only a short second before kissing Loki again, their passions reigniting, their lust driving forward. Loki pulled out of Tony’s embrace to face him, and their kisses became more ferocious, their actions more volcanic, and Tony’s hands didn’t stop. They took in everything, took it in with a new avidity, not sweeping or caressing but grabbing and pinching and no longer holding but squeezing with a new vigor. He kissed away from Loki’s lips, wondrous and animated as they were, and made to work on his neck, kissing and biting impetuously, and Loki let out small let out small breaths of appreciation, holding firmly to his facade.

Tony bit at Loki’s clavicle, and Loki twitched a bit, though he was silent beneath Tony’s mouth. Tony bit again, bit harder, and then lower, teeth gnashing at the flesh as he moved, his lips and tongue softening the flesh before each assault. Loki’s hand rested lightly on his head, fingers caressing the hair gently, as if patting a dog.

He bit down harder, as hard as he could, at Loki’s navel, and dug his nails into Loki’s back until he felt the light stick of blood beneath his fingers, and he heard Loki hum in appreciation.

“Look at that, Stark,” He said. “You managed to break the skin.” His fingers found a grip in Tony’s hair, and he pulled him back to stand. Tony’s hands found the back of Loki’s ankles, and they rubbed at the skin, sliding up slowly. His kneading wasn’t nearly as relaxing as Loki’s, and he knew it, but he persisted. His tongue licked at a patch of creamy skin, teeth pressed at the flesh around his tongue. Loki leaned back against the counter more, lounging on it. as Tony’s hands felt at the back of his thighs under the towel, feeling the muscle and tracing the veins. Loki’s right hand explored Tony’s hair, fingers sliding through it and roughly massaging his scalp. Tony’s hands gripped Loki’s ass with a firm appreciation before he slipped his hands under the towel and lightly pulled it off, hands sliding up and down his lower back and down to his ass again, just feeling at the skin--smoother and more pleasant to the touch than any man’s had ever been.

“Nice ass,” Tony muttered against Loki’s skin as his hands gripped at it firmly again.

“What a mouth you have,” Loki remarked. “bring it back to me,” He tightened his grip in Tony’s hair, pulling him up straight again and kissed him, a different kind of kiss, one that bragged his prowess, and Tony moaned a little into it as Loki’s tongue proved itself. It ended all too soon. Loki laughed, pulling his lips away, licking lightly at Tony’s mouth as he did.

He found himself being led back to the bedroom like before, to the plain white bed with the plain white sheets and the gorgeous god from Asgard and a raging hard on. Loki kissed him against it, and it was short again, and Tony felt unsatisfied, but Loki’s lips were gone, at Tony’s throat, and suddenly he was putty in the god’s hands, being shaped and warmed and touched. He ran his hands up and down the God’s back again, just feeling the skin as Loki sucked down his throat. He found himself pushed down on the bed, pants gone, as Loki’s hands poked lightly around the arc reactor, his tongue palpating his collar bone. Loki was straddling him on his knees, but he shifted around, brushing his body against Tony’s dick. Tony desperately moved to it, and Loki only laughed, taunting and quiet.

Tony’s hands were at the god’s waist again, and they slid on his inner thighs, waiting for a response as his fingers traced a question.

Loki’s only response was to hand him a bottle of lube from nowhere. Tony didn’t hesitate, smoothing it over his fingers and sliding one carefully into the God’s body.

He took his time with the preparation, watching Loki’s face as he did. He smirked, eyes closed, not moving against Tony’s hands through what Tony could only imagine was the strongest determination. And then suddenly Loki moved away from them instead, looking at him expressively and scolding him. “Enough,” and it was only one word, but it enough for Tony to get the picture.

Loki moved carefully then, sliding down on Tony, and his face gave him away this time, a look that could only be described as fucking relief washing over his face. He leaned forward, bracing himself on Tony, and began to move his hips, and immediately Tony groaned, already restraining himself from finishing. Loki moved his body like it was made of the most flexible cartilage, hips smooth in their motions, groaning little sighs, hand still braced on Tony’s chest. He stared burningly into Tony’s eyes, and he found himself almost unable to break the eye contact, which he only did to watch him move, eyes completely mesmerized by his entire being. Loki hunched down and kissed him for a moment, like an animal, and when he straightened up he did so all the way, even leaning back, moving and staring and thrusting like an animal. He was unlike anything Tony had ever seen, and the noises he was making could only be described as growls.

He remembered Loki’s dick shortly after, and he reached to it, his hand sliding up and down it, helping to finish him off.

Not much later, when the two laid on the bed catching their breaths, each on their own respective sides, Tony realized that even though he had played the pitcher, Loki had never once let him control the game.

 

Loki drifted off into a nap, and after at least fifteen minutes of dancing between awake and asleep, Tony got up. He walked through the apartment, picking up his clothes and getting his cell phone. It crossed his mind that he needed a shower, but opted out of taking one at the apartment. He did run his clothes through the dryer for a few minutes to get out at least a fraction of the grand canyon creases. He smoothed his hair with some water and washed his face, found his shoes and one of his socks. Whatever. Socks are only okay when you don’t have shoes. Fuck socks, the pretentious bastards.

He found a notepad in one of Loki’s kitchen drawers after looking for several minutes and then spent several more deliberating whether or not to leave a note. He spent another four finding a pen--Loki’s house was like a clean maze, fuck the man--and then three more internally fighting about whether he was going to get a kick in the face for leaving a note. He’d thought this was a one night stand. Could it still be a one night stand if he hadn’t left the next morning? He’d dealt with normal situations not unlike this--but the possible one night stand in question was never a god of Mischief, and was never related to any of his friends, or crazier than anyone he’d ever met.

In the end he left a short, snarky note he thought Loki would appreciate on the bar:

_Had a nice time biting the hell out of you--_ _  
__maybe next time you’ll actually bruise for more than half a second,_

_ bastard _ .

It was a way of saying, “I’m up for round three if you are” without putting expectations on either of them. Was Loki done with him? That’s fine. Was Loki looking forward to pounding him into the mattress again? That was also definitely okay.  

He called a taxi after he climbed out of the elevator. The place was still dark, except for the glass windows on the first floor, and he walked carefully, having completely forgotten about the cuts in his back until he bumped into one of the light stands--not falling over this time.   
He called Steve in the taxi, and he didn’t answer, so he left a voicemail.   
“Hey frostbite,” he said after the tone. “heading home. See you guys in a few.”   
He checked his own voicemail after that, deleting the ones Steve and the rest of the team had left in their annoyance and concern, only to discover that one of the voicemails was not from the team, but from the guy Loki had nearly gotten run over several days before. What was his name again? Ah, fuck, who cares. He could ask Jarvis when he got home. The guy wanted to go out for drinks again. Was he a glutton for punishment or something? Whatever. Tony had actually had an okay time with the guy until he’d nearly gotten himself run over--so what harm could it do now? He’d call back when he got home.

 


	9. Brief Conversations with Blonde Norse Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapters fairly short, I'm afraid, and not much happens. Expect much more plot development in chapter ten.  
> Thank you guys so much for leaving feedback and helping me with my mistakes.  
> When I'm in the middle of writing a chapter, and I go check my email and see someone's left me a comment, it sends me over the moon. Thank you guys, so, so much.

He got the exact kind of treatment he’d expected when he got home; none. The house was empty. The Avengers had gone out, refusing to let one man’s one night stand (“Hotel my ass!”) get in the way of their vacation. It was no skin off his bones.

Tony wanted to be alone, anyways. It was sinking in what he’d done, and for Tony, that was dangerous in itself. He didn’t think a lot about his questionable decisions--as a matter of fact, he didn’t think of them at all--which was why Pepper and Rhodey had found themselves scolding him so often. But now he was thinking about Loki, and he knew the more he did, the more he was going to mess himself up.

Somewhere in his mind he knew what a bigass mistake he’d made. Loki was--number one, a mass murder. Tony had slept with a lot of people, but until then, he’d never [knowingly] done it with someone who had killed people. He’d nearly killed Coulson, for one thing, who, as annoying as he could be, was a friend. You didn’t hurt Tony Stark’s friends. You didn’t stab Tony Stark’s friends and then have sex with him a few weeks later. Two, he wasn’t even human. He was, at best, a psychotic god of chaos, and at worse, a psychotic alien that loved chaos. Wait. Which was supposed to be worse? He was fucked either way. Three, it was his friend’s brother. He didn’t know Thor all that well yet, but they were a team now, and he trusted Thor to have his back, and made a point of having his, and everyone else’s. He still remembered what it was like having Mjölnor thrown at him when they’d first met, and it wasn’t something he was eager to relive. Having seen the god in battle, he was realizing more and more that Thor was stronger than he’d ever imagined; stronger than the Hulk, even, and yet he restrained himself. Tony didn’t know if he’d do the same if he found out about this.

Over the next few days he played the whole thing off as well as he could. Yes, he’d seen Loki, and yes, he’d gotten away. And he’d done a shitty job of answering his phone, and yes, it had fucking broke and fuck, he knew it was “convenient” but really, why would he have broken it on purpose? He got chewed out for being irresponsible, and received another serious talk from Steve, who seemed concerned.

“Tony, you can’t keep running around like this. It’s dangerous. He could have killed you,” And that sort of nonsense. “He’s dangerous. You just bolted without even waiting for us!”

And later, from Thor.

“Anthony, I would wish to converse with you on matters concerning my brother.” He said politely a few days after.

“Sure, man, what’s up?” And he didn’t blow Thor off the same way he had with Steve, because Loki was Thor’s older brother, and family changed things. Not to mention Tony still felt guilt as fuck.

“Are you being completely honest with us, Anthony? It is not that I doubt you, friend, however I cannot imagine why my brother would be following us if he did not have cause to do so, and it is becoming more apparent that his interest circumvents us and instead concentrates on you,” His face was very serious, alien intelligence contemplating his brother’s behavior, reworking the possibilities through the cogs in his brain. “Only I do not know why.”

Tony wasn’t entirely surprised by his questions. He’d expected as much--expected worse, and sooner. But Thor’s temperament had relaxed, and with that, his sympathy and his intelligence were able to grow more obviously. He’d waited several days, rather than ambushing him, as Tony half expected, and he was thinking with his head, and not with his heart, or his muscles.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing, big guy. Loki’s gotta have a reason for hanging around lately--but I’m about as in the dark as you are. All he’s done is try and kill someone I had a drink with and then stalk us to the pizza place. And the alley thing. But I have no idea what he’s planning--”

“Alley?” Thor interrupted.

“Oh, yeah, man. Right after he tried to zipline my friend in front of an eighteen wheeler I chased him through a few alleyways. He waited for me to catch up and then ambushed me, saying I needed to go home ‘cause he had no intention of killing me but ‘couldn’t say the same for anyone else’. But I have no idea who he was talking about.” He shrugged. “Besides, we don’t actually know that he’s following me. For all we know, I’m just the only one to catch sight of him.”

Thor shook his head. “I do not think it likely. Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton likely would have seen him had he made an attempt to follow them, and Captain Rogers spends much of his time with SHIELD. It would be unwise to follow either of the three of them, and I do not imagine my brother making the decision to follow after Banner since his last meeting with him. I imagine him often in crowds, his face hiding frequently among where it is not. My testimony is fairly unreliable,” he admitted.

“Who’s to say he doesn’t have some sort of tracking spell on Nat or Clint? Besides, we all go to SHIELD, and we all live here. No one’s saying he has to go into the building when we do. He could be following all of us. Chances are he just let his guard down the first time because he thought I was too drunk to see him. And with all of us at the pizza place, he might’ve just lost his focus trying to listen in, or maybe he figured we would be too distracted to see him.” Tony rationalized.

“I believe you are overreaching, Stark,” Thor put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “it seems likely he is focusing on you...whether that is out of convenience, or specific motivation, I do not know...my brother is a peculiar soul. He is not one easily understood, and yet one easily offended.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that idea when he pushed me out that window,” He replied, rolling his eyes.

“And yet he claims to want little for your death,” Thor said. “Though it is entirely possible he was lying, we cannot verify the soundness of his words. Though it seems he would have your trust,” He paused, looking at Tony very seriously. “You must guard yourself against him, or I fear he may gain your trusts only to harm you again. Three times now he has made an attempt on your life...I would like for it to not become four. You two are not unlike, my friend, and he seems to have noticed. I do not know if he is intrigued for threatened, but you should take caution no matter which his attentions turn to be.” Thor was very clearly concerned, and to Tony, it seemed as though he’d wanted to say this the entire time, that he’d been thinking about this for days and was only now talking to Tony because he thought the timing was right. “I may not be your closest of friends, Stark,” he said. “But I was once Loki’s, and he is still my brother, and you must be prudent in your own awareness of yourself. He is a trickster, a shapeshifter, and a liar. You cannot trust him. Even on Asgard, before his betrayal, he was always was a trickster, though he never meant any harm to our family--to Asgard. His mind is becoming twisted, and though my heart argues against it, my mind thinks he is lost to us.”

Loki found the note about two minutes after Tony had left. Humans were so noisy. He could practically feel Tony’s indecision from the bedroom as he tried to figure out the nature of what he’d done. It was so unlike humans. They were so unsure of what they did; they had little sense of direction, Loki had always thought, and therefore it was never difficult for him to steer for them. Tony had been a difficult case, however, there was no denying that. The man’s constant irresponsibility could make it hard to predict him. And yet, here I am, he thought as he made his second cup of coffee, I’ve done it. And the fool is even willing to do it again, granted I fancy the idea.

He read the note again, silently, eyes tracing the hesitant scrawl before crumpling it up, and throwing it away.

 


	10. A Widow's Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony talks more with Thor about Loki, and Natasha offers some of her own insight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Black Widow, and Thor and people's debates about Thor and Loki's complicated relationship. So I figured it was about time I got around to putting some more of it in here.  
> If you follow my writing blog you'll see that I decided that those little snippet chapters I post every here and there aren't going to work anymore. Which is good in that--longer chapters! And bad in that it also means longer waiting periods! Most likely.  
> Well, it's almost thanksgiving, and I'll be house sitting all of next week. The time along should give me more of a chance to work on chapter eleven, which looks right now like it'll be quite longer than anything before.  
> Please, feel free to comment on any grammar/spelling typos, and please do leave feedback.  
> I love you guys!

Tony was spending a lot of time hitting the bars. He’d seen his acquaintance from the unfortunate almost car collision once, and found him less engaging upon the second meeting, and hadn’t seen him since. The man was persistent in wanting Tony’s time, and Tony entertained the idea without ever actually considering it, for the sake of business.

He didn’t hear from Loki, and he had no way of contacting him, so he kept himself busy--which really wasn’t difficult even before the vacation ended. The team worked out together, helped each other train and work on their skills, relaxed together, and often went out together. It wasn’t a rule, or a constraint, or an expectation, but the team often found themselves nearly altogether or in pairs. It was a kind of friendship none of them were used to, and yet, all of them appreciated. Tony wondered if this was part of the reason that he hadn’t heard anything from Loki.

Loki. He’d been under the foolish impression during his lust spell prior to sleeping with Loki, that somehow managing to have sex with him would dispel his distractions--his colorful thoughts of what it would actually be like, to have sex with someone like Loki. Someone who wasn’t human. Someone who called himself God, and really seemed to believe it. A man who was troubled enough to send a “destroyer” to kill his brother, and then attack a planet and it’s inhabitants partially to piss his same brother off. And a man psychotic enough to think it was okay to do that; that doing it would bring him some sort of glory among the human race, or his own race, and whoever else it was he was trying to please.

But the thought’s didn’t go away. They only became more detailed, now that he knew exactly what it was like to have sex with a man holding all the previously cards in his deck. Loki was the joker in the deck, the wild card, and he loved it, mostly because he was, too. There was something so superior about Loki; Tony joked about how much better he thought he was than other people, and meant it, sometimes--Justin Hammer--but he was never unaccustomed to being ridiculed. He knew how to handle insults, and jabs at his personality or stability from most anyone, because a lot of the time they were wrong, or he expected them. Or he just didn’t care. Mostly because he could roll his eyes and push them to the back of his head like lies, even when they weren’t.

But Loki always seemed to hold up with the way he presented himself. Even when admitting defeat, he could smile, or laugh it off, or simply play cool in a way that surprised Tony. Sure, an insult was one thing, but in losing a big time battle like Manhattan, even Tony didn’t think he’d bounce back. But Loki had. “I came, I saw, I got beaten into the floor. Can I have a drink?” It was like nothing Tony had ever seen before.

He wondered if, at any moment, Loki had not been thinking of a way to escape after he’d lost. If there had been a moment of doubt, where he’d said to himself; “I’m going to have to go home, now, and face what I’ve done,” and accepted--without, for at least a moment, hoping for escape, tried to accept that. To Tony it seemed like something anyone would do, but Loki wasn’t human like Tony. Didn’t worry about the same things Tony worried about.

Loki’s attitude was almost exactly what one expected a modern devil’s to be like. Not an obvious, choking sort of evil, but a mad, sort of senseless violence that snuck past your senses and only became obvious when you were lying six feet under. He had no doubt that Loki, with his careful words and smooth voice, could’ve feigned goodness had he ever needed to fool them. The kind that could wrap around your throat like a scarf, only to choke you like a noose, or shine like a knife a cut like a feather. He seemed the kind to toy with his friends and dote on his prey.

Which, all things considered, didn’t bode well for Tony, who often found that science was sometimes the only distraction from his wandering thoughts. Now that he knew what it was like to look into Loki’s eyes and see pleasure, to kiss him and feel that he wanted you; he’d never forget the texture of his skin, smooth and carrying the slightest, non-inhuman chill, that held strong against weapons and the passions of sex. He’d always remember what it was like to kiss his---

Oh, fucking hell. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this. He put more thought into his work as a result--which made Pepper happy, at the very least. He started going to more events, attending twice as many meetings, and taking more of a part in the company’s running. This also meant more time with Pepper, which, at any other time in his life, would’ve been a godsend.

But it wasn’t anymore. He was lying to her--had betrayed her, and he knew he could only keep his mouth shut for so long before his conscience won out. He had no right to leave her unaware, and the longer he waited to tell her that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship with her, the more he was lying to her. Pepper was too good of a person to be kept in the dark about something like this. But he also didn’t know how to approach it with her. Every morning he saw her his mind wandered back to what he’d done, and to the horrible realization that he didn’t know how he felt about it. Naturally, sleeping with the enemy was all kinds of stupid; cheating on Pepper, stupid; sleeping with your friend’s crazy brother, stupid. But it had made him happy, at least for a time, before his thoughts of all the things Loki had done came back to him, and he remembered that sometimes, wanting to have sex with someone was only okay until you did it.

That being said, when Tony thought about it in retrospect, he could easily say it was a mistake he’d never make again. He knew the seriousness of his actions, and he’d realized the cons outweighed the pros of amazing sex; and yet, there was a part of him that wasn’t sure. His lust and curiosity had gotten the better of him at least three times before, hadn’t it? He didn’t have to sleep with Loki--hadn’t had to convince Loki he wasn’t brushing him off. He could’ve said no the second time, in the bed, or have controlled himself the third time, the next morning. But the fact remained that he simply hadn’t, for whatever reason, and there was a part of him that would do it again if it could, and a part that was scared because he knew that about himself.

But Loki had also--supposedly--kept him out of danger, that night at the bar in the alleyways. Transporting away and warning him that there were others out there, others who would kill him if he didn’t move quickly.

There were so many things whirling through Tony’s mind, he didn’t quite know where to begin sorting them, and while a part of him said that that the two fastest ways to deal with what he’d done was to tell someone, or breakup with Pepper, he simply didn’t think he was ready to do either of those things. Well; he’d never be ready for the second thing.

So, to avoid thinking about all things moral, he focused. He was good at focusing--he had just gotten lazy at it the past few weeks. You didn’t get to be this smart without learning to stop thinking about sex and guilt for more than an hour.

He went drinking with Clint and Natasha, trained with Steve, worked in the lab with Bruce, and talked with Thor, doing a lot of explaining so that he’d be more equipped to stay on Earth for as long as he needed to. He really liked the guy, and after their initial rocky start, he found himself being able to work more cohesively with the team. He had been pleased to discover that Thor was a lot more intelligent than he'd expected. He had vast amounts of knowledge humans hadn’t the remotest idea of, and was more than willing to share it. He wondered if it would be even half as easy to get Loki to crack about Asgard. He doubted it.

Thor, however, was delighted by Tony’s interest, and generally very open with the answers, and it was from Thor that Tony learned for the first time of Loki’s troubled past.

“...and the Vanir, whom hail from Vanaheim, are our sister race; Vanir to our Æsir, though we are all Asgardians. They are old gods; the masters of magic and sorcery, and have a talent for fortune telling, such as my mother, who in fact, taught my father all he knows on the subject. My mother came to Asgard from Vanaheim after the war...along with her father, and twin brother, Frey.” Thor was saying, looking up at the sky. It was past dark, and the two men were more separated from the rest of the crowd. Tony had shaken off his date about an hour ago, and hadn’t seen her since. As a result, questions and needs for a distraction struck him, and what started off as a quick inquiry changed into a long discussion that had taken them outside, where the chatter and need for attention from the Avengers was lessened, although not dissipated.

“Okay, okay, but--and please don’t get all hammer-time on me when I say this--Clint mentioned that in old Norse Mythology...Frigga isn’t your mother?” Tony said, being fairly candid.

Thor nodded slowly, brows wrinkling. “She is only what you, here, would call my stepmother,” he sounded uncomfortable with the term. “However, unlike my brother, I was always aware of my parentage, and therefore it is something I have no qualms in discussing. She is my mother, regardless, as Loki is my brother, despite his own complaints to the contrary,” He sighed and paused for a moment. “Perhaps, had my father been honest with him, such things might have been prevented. Perhaps not. It stands to remain, however, that had I not charged into Jotunheim against both their wishes, my brother and I would likely still be in Asgard, unaware.” He looked away from the sky and saw the surprise in Tony’s face. Tony had no idea what Thor was talking about. Thor misinterpreted it; “Forgive me, friend. I do not make excuses for my brother’s actions here. He is troubled being, but that does not excuse his actions.” He said respectfully.

“What are you talking about, Thor?” Tony finally questioned. “What about Jotunheim and Loki? He’s not your brother?”

Thor looked surprised. “Pardon me, Man of Iron. I assumed that if our Hawk friend had informed you of my parentage, you would have heard word of of my brother’s...” Tony continued to look at him expectantly, but Thor didn’t look at him.

“What happened, man? None of us actually know why Loki picked Earth to attack, but you seem to have a pretty good idea of where things went bad.” He said, now extremely interested. “I had family issues, too, with my dad. But I’m an only child. What happened with Loki and you guys to make him turn on you?”

Thor sighed again. “To understand, one must explain first whom the Jotuns were; specifically, the Frost Giants of Jotunheim. They were our biggest enemies, but after a great war with us, we learned to control them, created a peace treaty. My father himself won this war, and spared many lives, including that of their king, Laufey, who continued to rule after the war. In Asgard, the Jotuns were fear, hated...” Thor explained everything. The hatred between Asgardians and Jotuns, the fear and the stories told of Frost Giants in Asgard, how they were feared, and hated. He told of his unrealized coronation, and it’s interruption, of his attack on the Frost Giants and being cast onto Earth. “...to this day, I do not believe my brother intended for that to happen...” he explained what little he knew of what happened in Asgard while he was gone. “...Loki was mad with the realization of what he was, and my father fell into Odinsleep...mother told me he was reluctant to take the throne, and yet, take it he did, at her encouragement...” he told of his time in earth, then and his meeting Jane Foster, and Loki’s lie about their father. “All The While my brother plotted against Jotunheim..” about his friend seeking to help, the destroyer attack and the return of Mjölnor, and then his return to Asgard. “...my brother had grown more and more maddened with power and self-hatred...” Loki’s plan to kill all of Jotunheim, and their battle, which resulted in the destruction of the bifrost. “and in the impact we nearly fell into nothingness. But Odin awoke from the Odinsleep, and caught my ankle as I caught Loki’s staff, which his hand still clung to. And he looked into our eyes, and he let go.” Thor was silent for a long moment, and Tony waited, wondering if he had asked too much of Thor. But after a minute’s pause, he concluded: “we thought him dead. But word came from Heimdall of strange occurrences here, of Loki, still alive, terrorizing the race I cared for so much already. So I ventured here, in hopes of stopping his crusade against the things he thinks stand between him and what he cares about, what he wants, and what he thinks he cannot have. My brother is proving himself further beyond reason,” Thor admitted. “and yet, he is still my brother.”

“Wow,” Tony said lamely after another long pause. “So this whole thing is the result an identity crisis...?” he was a bit in disbelief, and he found himself growing angry at the thought. “He finds out he’s adopted and responds by trying to commit genocide? Fails at killing himself so he tries to kill us instead? Now your brother seems like even more of an ass,” Tony decided.

Thor laughed. “It is more complicated than that, Tony Stark. My brother may not be a good man, but he is not yet an evil one.”

“But still--” Tony replied, unable to stop himself. “I mean, I knew he was a prima donna, but come on! Killing people to get on top all because daddy didn’t love you enough--”

“That’s a bit ironic coming from you, Tony.” Someone said from behind them. They turned and saw Natasha, champagne in hand, wearing form-fitting red dress and stilettos, looking absolutely stunning. “Considering all the daddy-issues you’ve been backpacking your entire life. What was that you were saying? ‘Killing people to get on top’? I think sometimes you forget what kind of business you used to own. Do the words ‘weapon’s manufacturer’ ring a bell?” she had on that light, smug smile she used whenever she knew she had you beaten.

Tony was speechless for a moment. He took pause and regained himself, reminding his brain that designing and producing weapons wasn’t the same as bombing foreign territories. “I’ll admit, you have a bit of case there, Natasha.” He nodded. “But the difference is I never directly killed anybody. Besides, that’s not what I do anymore.” She wasn’t phased by his response.

“So basically what you’re saying is ‘doesn’t count, I stopped’?” She rolled her eyes. “Tony, what do you think we would’ve done if Loki had just given up in the middle of his plan? What if when Thor had shot down from the heavens and told him to come home, he’d said ‘Opps, you’re right, Thor. I get it, I get it. Lemme just help you find the tesseract so we can be on our merry way again’.” Tony could tell by her tone she was more into proving a point than guilting him about Stark Industries. “Or if in Germany he’d suddenly dropped his staff and said ‘pardon me, I’ve forgotten my manners’ and ordered Clint and Selvig to drop their actions and come back so he could undo his mind-control thing. Really, Tony? What would you have done if when you’d confronted him in Manhattan and he’d said; ‘Oh. I can’t win. How stupid.’ and offered you the tesseract on a dessert plate? What would you’ve done?”

“Are you trying to make a point here?” Tony finally spoke, finding his words again. “There’s a difference between making weapons and--”

“Everyone’s got a past, Tony,” she interrupted. “Loki, Thor, Clint, Bruce, me--even Fury. We all had rough patches, or are going through rough patches, or will go through--the thing is, Tony, some of us are able to get out of them. Some of us experience revelations, some of us get second chances--and some of us are forced into them. You seem to think that just because you’ve managed to get over some of your problems everyone has to.” Clint, seeing them together, was approaching. “Some of us were lucky. Some of weren’t.” Her face is serious, but not hard. “Back on the helicarrier, before Manhattan, you kept teasing Bruce and then you said---you told him there was a reason he was alive; a reason you were alive. Did you really believe that?” She asked critically.

“Well, of course I do--”

“I really think you helped him, Tony.” She interrupted, nodding. “You did for him what a lot of people couldn’t do; what Pepper and Rhodey probably did for you, what Clint did for me. You helped him change. We all had that moment--that critical moment when we could’ve gone on doing whatever we wanted, or what we were already doing, and decided not to. Because we almost died, or should’ve died, or changed, or realized what we were doing or who we were. We all had someone. Who do you think Loki had when he realized he was still alive, after falling into a black hole to kill himself? That’s not even a painless suicide, Tony. So imagine,” Clint had stopped to listen, and Natalie was stepping closer to Tony, becoming even more serious by the minute. “you’ve tried to kill yourself, only to find that you’ve failed. He should have died, and who did he have to help him make a change? Thanos, the Chitari, the promise of redemption and royalty.” She was in his face. “Where would you be without your friends now, Tony? Where would any of us be?”

“So what, you think that--”

“Tony, our Spider friend is right,” Thor interrupted, having been quietly listening the entire time. “had I not met Erik Selvig, or Jane, or Darcy, I would likely still be wandering Earth, powerless and naive.” Tony turned to look at him, and the entire tone of the conversation had changed past his Tony’s comfort zone all too long ago. “While I do not condone his actions, Loki made his choices alone.”

“Face it, man,” Clint jumped in, lightening the air. “None of us would be here without our guys. Loki doesn’t have any friends. That’s his problem. I mean, come on. Do you really think you’d be half this awesome without the rest of the Avengers now?”

“Very funny, guys,” Tony said, finally accepting the truth of what they were saying. “But I think I’ve finally spotted my date again,,” he gestured to a brunette across the room in a slim yellow dress. “so ‘cuse me, but she’s hotter than most of you, so unless Natasha’s willing to take her place...” he flashed them all a smile and walked to his date, smoothly interlocking their arms and directing them to the bar.

“Ah, so you decided to come back after all...”

His date--he couldn’t remember her name, as she wasn’t Natasha, Pepper, or anyone else important--wasn’t offended at his walking off on her. It wasn’t a date in the formal dating sense, after all, in that he’d only taken her because Pepper insisted he not go alone, a fact that his date, who actually worked for Stark Industries, was aware of. She was an extremely intelligent woman in her mid-thirties that worked in--well, some department of Stark Industries. Pepper had picked her out personally. She was good company, all in all, and Tony might’ve even made a point of remembering her name, had things not gotten crazy before he had a chance to ask again.

They were headed to the limo when it happened, Tony tired and slightly drunk as he held the door open for the brunette and she climbed inside when suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere, came a flash of light, heading at him from the sky.

“Holy sh--Happy, drive!” He yelled, shoving the brunette inside and slamming the door. The press scattered to avoid the blast as Tony grabbed the suitcase Iron Man suit from the trunk of the limo, hitting the back of it with a slap that told Happy he could drive away. The blast missed him, luckily, too far off to the right. He donned the Iron Man suit as quickly as he could, shouting orders to Jarvis all the meanwhile.

“Alert the Avengers, Jarvis!” He yelled, searching the sky as another blast headed towards him. “Something’s attacking me.” He flew up, trying to see who or what it was. “Got anything, Jarvis?” he said, eyes scanning the sky.

“Three o’clock, sir,” Jarvis replied, and Tony’s head snapped in that direction. “It appears a certain Mr. Laufeyson has decided to join the engagement,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment  
> please comment  
> i do not know if i am writing well  
> of if i am basically ruining everything  
> help


	11. Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some explanations, some distractions, and some cheeseburgers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you guys. I'd like to say, first of all, I'm so sorry about the waiting period. I was in New York and Washington, DC for most of winter break until the second, and upon returning home, I wanted to spend as much time with my friends--especially the ones that go to school out of town--before school cluttered up our schedules or put hours between us.  
> I would also like to inform you [though I'm sure you've noticed] that I've decided to try and conclude the story at fourteen chapters. This number is subject to change at anytime, though I feel like I'm at a place where, since I know completely where the story is going, three or four chapters more should be enough to conclude the story.  
> That said, I love you all so much. I feel incredibly lucky to have people out there reading my work, and waiting patiently through my bullshit for the next chapter, which I hope to bring in quality in the near future.

   
“Speak of the devil” Tony said on a feed to the rest of the Avengers. “Loki’s here.”  
  
“Loki is what--?” He heard Clint curse. “We’re coming.” Loki shot another blast--and it shot right past Tony, hitting the back of the limo. Tony watched, eyes wide.  
  
“Whoever’s out first get to my limo,” he said over the intercom. “Loki’s flipped it over. Happy and Amy were in there,” now that she might be dead, he found himself able to remember her name, the bitterness of Loki’s actions rotting on his tongue.  
  
He flew at Loki, who was on the roof of a nearby building. Loki was aiming his scepter for another blast at the limo, glancing back and forth between it and Tony as he tried to figure out if he'd be able to launch another blast before Tony got to him. Tony flew faster, unable to tell if he was going to go for the shot--he did--and Tony slammed into him, knocking into Loki hard before pushing them into a roll to lessen the impact as they slammed into the pavement of the roof.  
  
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” Tony yelled, looking in Loki’s eyes through the Iron Man suit.  
  
“Stark,” he snarled. “You’re a fool!”  
  
He disappeared into nothingness, and Tony fell flat on the ground. He rolled over, prepared to defend against a blow but Loki was facing the other way, aiming another blast at the limo. Tony stumbled back to his feet and lurched at him--but it wasn’t him, he wasn’t there--and he fell straight over the roof’s edge, only gaining sense of what had happened as he slammed against the ground. He groaned, rolling over and getting up as Loki approached the limo.  
  
What the fuck was Loki doing? Was he really so possessive that’d he flip his shit like this? Tony knew Loki was crazy, or at least, a part of him was crazy, but Tony wasn’t self important enough to be fooled into thinking this was just one jealous rampage over a date he was barely paying attention to, especially since he was currently dating Pepper.  
  
But if he wasn’t jealous, why was he here? Why would he attack now, in the middle of all this, in front of press and literally right outside where the avengers were? He had to either be really pissed, or he had a plan that involved getting people hyped up over him again, as if they weren’t scared enough already. Could it actually be that Loki was that jealous of a guy? Tony struggled to believe that; he was too smart to come marching out in a furious tantrum like this without further provocation.  
  
It had to be something else. This wasn’t some crazed power trip, wasn’t about jealousy, and didn’t seem to be a part of some take over the world plan, so what the fuck--?  
  
“Hey, Loki,” Tony called, his repulsor aimed at the back of his head. “Why don’t you take a second and, uh, tell me what the fuck you are doing?”  
Loki turned and looked at him, scowling. “Why must you interfere in everything?!” He demanded. “Standby! Have I not earned some measure of trust?!” Tony stopped, surprised. Had Loki earned his trust? So was all of this something to him after all? Or did he think that hooking up made them friends? Hell, did it? Was that how Loki was playing this? Tony searched his face for a lie or any sort of sarcasm, but he wasn’t given the chance to find it, as Thor came barreling outside and Loki’s head whipped in his direction. His face twisted with annoyance, or with fear, and looked back at Tony before he disappeared into nothing.  
  
Well, he tried.  
  
Tony, without thinking, raised and open palm and fired a beam straight at Loki as the rest of the Avengers ran out of the building. Loki took it full on in the gut, stumbling backwards and his abdomen. His face twisted in a snarl at Tony before vanishing, tricking Tony into a millisecond of relief; a sudden hand gripped the shoulder of the Iron Man suit violently, fingers pressing into the metal. Loki’s head appeared over his other shoulder a millisecond later, his whole body tensing.  
  
“Not quite,” he laughed. His smile was like a scar across his face, and even though he was still wearing the Iron Man suit Tony felt naked, felt as though Loki knew every stupid or brilliant thing he’s ever done, that he was confirming that the negatives canceled out all the hope he had of being a good person. He felt as though Loki was laughing at him for trying to cover up his mistakes with his kindness. His eyes were slate black and dead. Staring at them, a spark ran down Tony’s spine and he felt as though Loki’s concise understanding was superior to infinite alternatives, that it extended further than he could ever grasp; Loki knew, understood his fears, his wants, his needs, like he was completely at hand with Tony’s thoughts, hands picking through the fears in him.  
So much for--  
  
Loki disappeared, and Tony fell to his knees, eyes on the ground and not seeing anything. His heart pounded in his chest, he felt violated, horrified, by Loki, for the first time since the bathroom, and it was overpowering, more overcoming and laced with the bitterness of defeat, of his the loss of his surefootedness. The devil was a liar, a snake.  
  
Tony had swallowed the poison whole. The snake had said, ‘give me your hand,’ and Tony had rolled up his sleeve and offered the whole arm.  
He heard the Avengers yelling, and yet his mind didn’t understand what they were saying for a long moment.  
“STOP HIM! STOP HIM!” Someone was screaming. Tony looked up, blinking back into the world. His eyes searched for Loki, and he wasn’t there. Instead, he was at the limo, ripping the door the driver’s side and yanking the driver out. He pulled a knife from a fold in his clothing, and glanced back. Hawkeye was there, an arrow unsheathed and pointed directly at Loki. He released, and for a moment Tony thought Loki would drop Happy and the night would be a success. Instead, Loki put the knife to Happy’s neck and they disappeared.  
  
The last motion he’d made was that of the knife drawing across Happy’s throat.  
  
~  
  
Loki tossed the body in an alley before returning home. One down; not nearly as difficult as he’d expected, but the next would be harder, now that his enemy was on guard. Walking into his living room, he reminded himself to be further vigilant with his own safety. He stripped off the heavier layers of his armor, leaving them on the floor. He was unmarked from the fight except for a bruise left from being hit by the Iron Man suit’s blast. It was a light yellow, already deep into the process of healing, and yet, out of all the marks Tony had ever left, this was the most painful.  
  
He stretched leisurely across his couch, head and legs hanging over either ends. He though of Tony, and of the expression on his face when Loki had disappeared. He looked furious, confused, and most of all, desperate.  
  
Loki let his head hang back in the air and he laughed, the sound starting off as a quiet melody, growing filling the room.  
  
Tony would be coming, too, no doubt. Tony was no coward, and Loki knew he’d come here as soon as he could. He trusted that he would come alone, for he had no way of explaining his knowledge of Loki’s lodgings, or his familiarity with them. But he would come, no doubt.  
  
It didn’t seem likely to Loki that Tony would tell the Avengers where he was, even now, after what he’d done. Tony was going to want answers, and he knew he was a lot less likely to get them if Loki was in a holding cell at SHEILD explaining the accusations Loki was making against him about their affair, although, Loki had a back up plan to ensure he was never captured in the first place.  
  
Tony must’ve been completely entangled in SHEILD crap, because it took him much longer to arrive than the god had anticipated it would. But he arrived alone, in a fit of anger, pounding on the door.  
  
“Loki—“  
  
“It’s open. I heard your monstrous footsteps plodding up the first flight of stairs when you got here.” The door swung open and Tony stormed inside, slamming the door behind him, walking to where Loki was still reclined across the length of the couch.  
  
“Where do you get off?” his voice was quiet, trembling with anger. “From what, the sex? The violence? The ‘don’t you trust me’ crap? Or from genuinely convincing me that even though you’re attacking me, aiming your guns at my limo, you somehow have me thinking I’m the one causing the problems? That I’ve wronged you for not trusting you to have a good reason slitting Happy’s throat? Please, tell me, what is it here that has you so fucking smug?” Loki raised an eyebrow at him, smile fading as displeasure  
  
“Are you applying for my justification? I apologize if I don’t seem obliged to falsify any interest,” Loki replied. “And let me assure you that the man at the wheel of that vehicular device was no friend of yours, and put your mind to rest,” he laughed. “You came all the way here to make a fuss, and you didn’t even stop to examine the corpse. Please, ask any of your alliances, the man I killed was not” he sat up, slinging his legs back onto the ground and sitting straight. “Anyone you knew.” His eyes pointedly eyed the seat adjacent to himself; Tony, who was clearly taken aback, ignored him and pulled out his phone, dialing a number. Loki waited patiently to hear the confirmation, and when Tony hung up the phone, his face was uncertain.  
  
“So what, you planned the whole thing on purpose? You knew it wouldn’t be Happy, and—“ he paused, sitting down, filling in pieces. The dead driver wasn’t Happy, and his date wasn’t Pepper and none of Tony’s friends had ever been in danger. But Loki had still killed this guy, whoever he was.  
  
Tony sat down.  
  
“So what, is this some kind of threat? What was the point of all this?” Tony asked. Loki looked at him and laughed.  
  
“You could call it a threat,” he said, smiling lightly and gesturing. “But it’s not something I would…” he paused, emphatically draping his arm over the couch behind where Tony sat. “…concern myself with,”  
  
“That’s cute,” Tony replied, feigning disinterest. “But I’m not drunk and I still have no idea what you real motivation was back there. So maybe you chat me up about what’s really going on, and we get to the fun stuff later?” Loki’s apartment had one window outside of the bedroom. It was in the kitchen, clean decorated sparsely with nothing but a toaster and a coffee maker Tony though Loki might’ve stolen from a hotel. In the cupboards there was a limited amount of dishes, and the spice rack was untouched. The fridge, Tony imagined, would be empty, the black countertops immaculate, though he couldn’t tell from where he was, and the stove unused. Loki had an abundance of absolutely nothing, from what Tony could tell, except malice and charisma. He examined the coffee pot, keeping his eyes of Loki and on the mostly empty apartment instead.  
  
“That’s funny, ” Loki interrupted his attempt at self distraction too easily, and Tony’s eyes flicked back to Loki’s and held there, like convicts behind a cell door. “as you’ve never required any sort of coercion beyond our first few…conversations. One might even go as far to say that…had you not compelled me to believe in your favor…we never would have become involved in the first place.” Loki’s hand was dancing on his shoulder, the pads of his fingers pressing gently into the skin as they slid to rest on Tony’s bicep. He moved closer on the black leather couch, eyes boring into Tony’s. It wasn’t a sell yet, Loki knew. He could see that his distraction was working, and yet, Tony was fighting it. “I’ll explain everything,” he reassured, “at a time that is convenient to me, in a way that’s…” he kissed Tony, lightly, “beneficial to both of us.”  
  
“To be clear,” Tony said, his voice quiet, but in firm tone, “I will get that confession out of you…” he let Loki kiss him again. “…regardless of whether…” another kiss. “…you’re ready when I ask,” Loki was edging him onto his back with each kiss. “so you’ve been warned,” Loki was on top of him, just like that, Tony’s legs straddling him, their kisses uninterrupted by words, until:  
  
“I’ll take extreme caution, then,” Loki breathed. “in being thoroughly prepared.”  
  
Then, at the prompting of Tony’s emotions, they had angry sex on Loki’s couch.  
  
Twice.  
  
~  
  
“Have you ever had a cheeseburger?” Tony asked suddenly, waking Loki, who had drifted off to sleep on top of him.  
  
“What in the nine realms is a cheeseburger?” Loki replied irritably, “and why are you so chatty right after sex?”  
  
“What do you mean you’ve never had a cheese burger? Pizza? Ice cream? Steak?”  
  
“Of course not,” Loki replied, looking at him, startled by earnest face. “I’m by no means acquainted with your food groups.”  
  
“You own a coffee machine!”  
  
“I stole it.” Loki replied, sitting up on his knees, clearly confused by Tony’s alarm.  
  
“Okay...okay--get dressed.” Tony said, getting up and fixing his clothes. “We’re going to get you a cheeseburger ASAP.” he informed Loki, his voice completely serious.  
  
“I hardly see the need for this--”  
  
“Loki,” Tony deadpanned. “You’re stuck here. Might as well learn your way around a restaurant or two,”  
  
Loki sat in bed for a moment, watching Tony scramble into and straightening his clothes. “I hardly believe it would be particularly advantageous to have one with as much---notoriety as ourselves in public in such a flagrant manner,”  
  
“What, can’t you disguise yourself?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he pulled on his pants. “You’re a god, after all. Or so I hear.”  
  
“Do I have a choi—“  
  
“No.”


End file.
